


Rogue One Prompt Collection

by StreetSolo



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bodhi Rook x Reader, Crack, Crying, Death, Despair, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Romance, Spoilers, check chapter title/notes for specific tags and triggers, spiritassassin, well some of them anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 25,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8865202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: A collection of fics and prompts for Rogue One. Most are a combination of rebelcaptain (Jyn x Cassian) or spiritassassin (Chirrut x Baze) but there are some other ones in there as well.  Mostly in the third person although I do have one Bodhi x Reader in there for those of you who enjoy Reader-Inserts (and maybe more coming, depending on what requests I receive!) Rating varies by chapter. If you have a specific prompt in mind that you'd like to read, click here to send me a request. Happy reading!!





	1. Closing Moments (Chirrut x Baze)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: *That* scene on Scarif  
> Characters: Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus  
> Word Count: 1577  
> Rating: S for SPOILERS  
> Triggers: If you have to ask, don’t read this (unless you want to be spoiled)  
> Tags: My heart hurts

               He couldn’t see, but that hardly mattered. The Force would guide him, as it did, as it always would, throughout this life and the next. In the back of his mind, he could feel Baze reaching out to him, and while he should have been concerned, there had been an idle sense of contentment there to know that Baze cared, that Baze thought of him above all others. Even in his darkest moments, the ones that came few and far between, he could always count on Baze to be there to watch over his shoulder, to see what he could not sense. Now, though, it seemed that there was nothing looking out for either of them.

               But that did not mean the Force had abandoned them. No, the Force would never abandon him. It flowed through him, giving him life, giving him energy, and providing him with the strength that he needed to do this. This, it seemed, was his purpose. They all had had a part to play, even if he hadn’t immediately recognized it when he had come to Jyn’s rescue. He had just felt a tug in the Force, a tangible pull that _this_ was what he had needed to do, and he had followed the direction of the Force as it so often did. It had led him to Baze, and if that had been a mistake, it was one that he would make over and over again.

               He could hear the sound of blaster fire all around him, but he was not afraid. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He was nervous, yes, but not of pain, not of death. He was afraid of something much more vital. If he failed in this, the others wouldn’t have a chance against the Empire, and it was more than clear to him that that was his mission now. Whatever life he had wanted with Baze would have to be forgotten now. The role that he had come to play on Jedha? Gone. This was what the Force required of him, and they all had to play their parts to stop the regime of the Empire from spreading.

               He had to pull the lever, the one right in front of him, the one that would open a connection with the Rebel star fleet. Maybe the Force had given him eyes without sight for this very reason, so he wouldn’t have to see the barrage of lasers flying his way. He could feel them, though, could hear the study hum of the blasters firing and could feel the heat as the blasters just grazed his robe, but they did not hit him. Instead they sunk into the sand all around him, sending explosions through the air and showing him with bits of sand, but he kept his head bowed, his staff front and center, as he walked on. This was what he was set in this galaxy to do, and he felt almost sure that the Force was going to allow him to do this, his final act in his closing moments. Whatever fear, whatever trepidation that he had, was not towards his own death, but merely the thought of failing, of being struck down, before he could accomplish his goal.

               That, and thoughts of Baze. He would understand why he had to do it, but he would never really understand why it was _him_ who had to do it, and that had always been the great thing about Baze, humoring him without even understanding why he was doing so. Somewhere along the line, they had become inseparable, and now there was nothing ahead of them, no future to look forward to. It was a loss, but at the same time, it would allow others to live. It would allow others to be free of the shadow of the Empire, to have a chance at freedom, and that was worth so much more than the lives of the entire Rebel Alliance combined.

               Still, he couldn’t lie that there was a tremor in his heart as he groped blindly around the console before he finally pulled the switch. The Force would only protect him for so long, and once he had done his duty, that would be it for him. He wasn’t as terribly afraid of his death, as it was a necessary trial that everyone must at some point undergo, but it wasn’t his life that he was afraid of. Baze would not be able to take it. Baze would not be able to simply walk away from this, although somewhere in the back of his mind, Chirrut doubted that any of them were going to be able to walk away from this. The Empire was quickly closing in, and with that shield still in place overhead, it was doubtful that any of them were going to be able to make it out of there alive.

               This mission commanded everything that they were willing to give, and the Empire had taken everything from them, everything but their lives and their hope, and Chirrut felt momentarily comforted that the Empire could only choose one to rob them of. It could take their lives, and it would, but there was a sort of reassurance knowing how many others there were willing to fight, how many other lives could replace his when the time came. Their mission would greatly reduce the people who had to live in fear, and without fear, without that hold on the peoples of the galaxy, the Empire would crumble and collapse.

               No, hope was the strongest weapon that they had at their disposal. It wasn’t Baze’s custom blaster or his staff or even the powers of the Force that the Jedi masters of the old stories were able to wield. The hope that even one person could turn the tide of battle, that one person was able to stand up against the Empire and help disable them for the good of the galaxy was enough for him. He would never live long enough to see it completed, but by playing his part in this mission and by giving his life, the Empire would collapse. He could feel the Force calling out to him, assuring him of this, reminding him that this would lead to a better future, not just for Baze if he ever made it out of there, but for everyone.

               His fingers fumbled for a moment as he found the lever, and his shoulders slumped, both with resignation and relief, as he completed his final mission. Almost immediately, he could feel a blaster bolt slam into his back, and the pain that shot through him was unlike anything he ever felt before. There was another, and another, but eventually the pain became so overwhelming that he barely felt anything at all as he slumped to his knees and allowed a new kind of darkness to take over. A sudden sense of peace overcame him and in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder, wherever the next stage of his journey would take him, if he would finally be able to see Baze’s face.

               All was still for a few moments before he could feel Baze drop into the sand beside him, taking him in his arms as he repeated his name over and over again. _Why do I need luck when I have you?_ That’s what Chirrut had said to him back on Eadu, and it was what rang through his mind again now. It was as true for Baze as it had been for him, but he could barely think of what to say to provide him comfort in his closing moments. He could barely hear the explosions around him, could barely feel Baze’s hands anymore, could barely take in the acrid smell of smoke that was thick with blood and death.

               “Look to the Force,” he advises, each exhalation a tangible effort on his part. “And you will always find me.”  

               “The Force is with me and I am one with the Force,” Baze says, taking up the chant that he had put up with for so long. Chirrut can feel the muscles in his body relax somewhat, could feel the darkness of the Force taking hold as Scarif began to fall away. He could feel the hands of the Force reaching out to him, and he went willingly, letting Baze’s words guide him to whatever the Force had planned for them in the After. “The Force is with me, I am one with the Force. The Force is with me, I am one with the Force. The Force is with me, I am one with the Force. The Force is with me...”

               Still, that wasn’t the last thought that crossed through his mind before he was finally allowed to pass on. He knew the team would take his loss hard, Baze most of all, but while his mission ended here, theirs did not. They had to keep fighting, they had to keep pushing on, and with the last ounce of his energy left in his body, he channeled all of his strength to try to send them a final message, hoping beyond hope that they could feel it. She had been selected for this mission for a reason, he had sensed it the moment she had first passed by him on Jedha, and he knew that, ultimately, the fate of the galaxy rested in her ready hands.

_Good luck, Jyn Erso. And may the Force be with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I think out of everything, this scene was the one that wrecked me the most. I knew Chirrut was going to be my fav going in, and I knew that it wouldn't end well for him, but I got damn attached to him for the brief time we got to spend with him. Donnie Yen is absolutely amazing!! All the feels!! ='(


	2. Closing Moments (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: *That* scene on Scarif  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 1249  
> Rating: S for SPOILERS  
> Triggers: If you have to ask, don’t read this (unless you want to be spoiled!)  
> Tags: My heart hurts…

               And just like that, he had told her that her father would have been proud of her. She knew it, he didn’t need to say it, but she was glad that he did all the same. He was glad that he had spared her father’s life back on Eadu, glad that he had come to her defense back on Yavin IV back when no one else would, and despite their rocky start, even Jyn had to admit that they made one heck of a team.

               Too bad it was so short lived. The blinding light in front of her was brilliant and beautiful, but terrifying, and she allowed herself to drop her gaze as she let her eyes slip shut. Even still, she could still see the light from behind her eyelids, and although she tried to shut it out, it was right there, signaling her fate. Signaling their fate. The fight of the Rebel Alliance was just beginning, but it seemed that her part to play in all this was finally over. She had often wondered how it would end, whether she would find her way out of this galaxy in an Imperial death camp, but no, if she had to die now, she was glad that she could go out knowing that both Saw and her father would have been proud of her.

               Cassian moves somewhere off to her side, and she finds his hand and holds it, allowing her to find comfort in this, the smallest of comforts, in her closing moments. She can hear the roar of the planet shattering around her, reverberating through her bones, echoing around her brain as if the sound was not really a sound at all, but a beat pulsing within her. She had felt this way back on Jedha when she knew her death was close, but this beat was stronger, as if signaling to her that her time truly was coming to an end. This had been a suicide mission, she had known it all along, but for some reason, she had never accepted it. Knowing and accepting were apparently two very different things, and it wasn’t until that exact moments that the words had entered Jyn’s mind.

               _I am going to die._

There was fear in that thought, fear that only served to make the Empire stronger, but there was no way they could use that fear against her now. For a moment, she felt absolutely overcome with a creeping sense of numbness, a kind of terror that could only be felt but not expressed. She once again felt like the little girl she had been back on Lah’mu, when she had watched her mother sink to her knees, watched the smoke rise from the gaping hole in her chest, before she had turned and ran as fast as she could. She had learned that day that _safe_ was just a word, just a temporary state of being, and there would be no reprieve, not from this. She had run all her life, but now, she found that there was no place left for her to go. Saw was gone, her father was gone, and she was in the closing minutes of her life.

               “Don’t think about it.”

               She’s suddenly aware that his fingers are touching hers, but she can no longer feel them, whether it’s because he’s grown far too cold or she’s grown far too numb, she has no idea, but that ceased to matter. He was right. What’s done was done, and there was no sense dwelling on it for however long she had left. What else was there to think about, then? The fact that they had succeeded in their mission? The fact that they were able to steal the plans for the Death Star and help destroy the very thing her father had helped the Empire create?

               “We did it,” she offers, but her voice sounds quiet in the vast space around them, and there’s an uncomfortable lump in her chest that rises when she tries to speak. He gets to his feet, pulling her up with him, and she just closes her eyes as she lets herself relax in his arms. Every instinct from within her is telling her to fight, to run, to try to find a ship or _something_ , but she knows she can’t, knows that it wouldn’t make a difference if she did.

               A part of her wants to break away from him, but for some reason, she feels as though her legs might collapse beneath her if she tried, and there was no point in wasting her last seconds pretending to be something stronger than she was. She had been good at that, living on the edge, embodying a sense of reckless danger all in the name of the _fight_ , but it seemed that this was where she had made her last stand, and at least she could say that she had made it worthwhile. She may have lost her life in the process, but she had still won. She would never get to see it, but what she did, what they all did, would destroy the Empire, and she could find at least some small solace in the fact that when the Empire fell, it would be because of her father and the trap he had set for them.

               She thinks she can hear Cassian say something in her ear, but his voice sounds far away now, like it’s coming from the end of a long tunnel. She can feel her thoughts becoming more detached from each other, idle strands of Basic that weave their way in and out of her brain. Where was she going now? What would be her next mission? Her next assignment? Would they assign Cassian to work with her again? They had made a great team together, her and him and heck, even K-2SO, and from somewhere in the back of the mind, she remembered something about the way he had looked at her back on Yavin IV and she had recognized something in the look that she couldn’t find the words to describe now. For all their furtive glances and idle flirtations, she had never outright admitted anything. Neither had he. There simply hadn’t been time, or even a need, really. He knew, and she knew, and maybe that was enough.

               She tries to say his name, but suddenly she might not have ever been standing there beside him at all as they were instantaneously crushed under the force of the shockwave. She felt small, and cold, and alone, and she could feel icy fingers spreading through her chest, down her back, up her arms, and finally through her head where she let herself slip away. She had done her role, she had done enough, but in war, it was hard to say what ever really was _enough._

In that single, solitary moment, Jyn Erso slipped away in Cassian’s arms as the Death Star glassed Scarif’s Imperial base clean off the map. If she could have had one last moment, one last thing that she could have done in this life, she would have wanted to see the last look on Krennic’s face as he watched the Death Star, his weapon, his life’s work, finally destroy him once and for all. The weapon that he had forced her father to create would be the death of him, and she could think of no better form of poetic justice than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not generally a big shipper in general, but I felt a lot of chemistry between them after what happened on Yavin IV, and I just...damn. It's been two hours and my heart still hurts!! I keep replaying their final scene over and over again in my head, like, it's bittersweet. On one hand they were able to complete their mission, but they all had to give their lives to do it, and I wish it didn't have to be that way, but that's war, and at least we know their overall mission to bring down the Death Star was a success.


	3. stolen kiss (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor trade more than words in that elevator ride on Scarif.  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 708  
> *spoilers*

               She shakes her head as if she’s still unable to believe it. The elevator lurches slightly, and Cassian quickly leans back away from her in order to grab onto one of the walls for support. Honestly, he could barely stand on his own, and a part of her almost couldn’t believe that he had even made it up to her position. She had barely made it up to the local transmission control past those clamping metallic jaws herself, and she had still only been scarcely able to pull her legs up in time, even at the height of her reflexes.

               “What is it?” he asks, fixing her with his dark gaze, and she has to dip her head down as she looks away. Fortunately, the sound of a TIE crashing into the sand somewhere nearby draws her attention, and she pretends to devote her full attention to the sound. Still, he’s not about to let her off so easily. “No, tell me, what is it? Is it because of-?” He lets his voice trail off as his eyes glance upwards, back to where Krennic was still lying near the top of the tower.

               “It wasn’t-” Jyn swallows the words as she shakes her head from side to side. No, she wanted to say that it wasn’t his place to intervene, that she and Krennic had a much more complicated history than he could ever hope to understand, but she couldn’t deny that Cassian had saved her life, or rather, prevented Krennic himself from killing yet another Erso. “Thank you.”

               “You didn’t need to kill him,” Cassian tells her, keeping his voice firm. “His life was not ours to take.” Jyn herself would have disagreed with that, but it seemed like a sentiment her father might have preferred, and so she let it be.

               “You saved my life,” she offers, trying to push thoughts of Krennic out of her mind, at least for right now. He was still alive, and although it probably wasn’t for much longer, she couldn’t deny that the thought unnerved her, lest he still manage to find a way to take someone else she cared for from her.

               “More than once,” he reminds her, and she can’t help but let herself relax as she lets out a small chuckle of agreement. “Am I going to get a thank you this time?”

               “This time?” she asks as she raises her eyebrows, placing her hands on her hips as she juts them out to one side. “I believe I thanked you for the last time.”

               “The last time?”

               “At least the first time.”

               “Are you sure?”

               Jyn’s forehead creases as she tries to think back, as she honestly tries to remember, but she can’t. She remembered how Cassian had shot down one of Saw’s men from the overhead bridge on Jedha to prevent him from blowing up the tank she had been using as cover, but too much had happened too quickly, and thanking him wasn’t the first thing that had come to her mind at the time. “Seems I have a lot to thank you for,” she admits quietly before her gaze suddenly hardens. “Like back on Eadu?”

               He lets out an incredulous laugh as he looks around the elevator, probably looking for K-2SO to offer him support and a witty rebuke. “Eadu?” he repeats as he tilts his head to one side. “What about Eadu? I didn’t kill your father, Jyn, I already told you, I-”

               Before he can say anything further, she quickly leans forward and presses her lips against his. He’s clearly not expecting it, and he lets a small noise erupt out of the back of his throat before he shuts his mouth and accepts the kiss. She closes her eyes and lingers there for a moment, feeling the rough stubble of his facial hair against her upper lip, before she quickly pulls away. Cassian tries to speak again, but it seems his words have failed him as he gestures vacantly into the air with one hand, as if summoning the right words to say out of thin air.

               “I know,” she replies at length, letting a faint smile rise to the surface of her lips. “That’s me thanking you for it.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than what I usually write, but a friend baited me into posting this by promising to go with me to see Rogue One again tomorrow if I did!! xD Hope you enjoyed it regardless!! Cheers!!


	4. on Sullust (Jyn + Saw parenting fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Saw + Young Jyn Parenting Fic; she needs to learn how to shoot a blaster sometime  
> Requested by: [a-non-sequitur](http://a-non-sequitur.tumblr.com/)  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Saw Gerrera  
> Word Count: 1633  
> *spoilers*

               “Where are we going?”

               Jyn’s young voice sounds small as it faintly rings off the cavern walls around her, and Saw just bobs his head up and down as if he had been expecting such a question.

               “The first thing we must do is leave Lah’mu,” he tells her patiently. “It is no longer safe for you here.”

               “But what about my father?” Jyn asks, her small voice trembling with fear. “You’re going to get him back, right?”

               Saw’s lips curve downwards into a frown as he keeps walking, putting a hand on her shoulder as if to usher her along. The ground is sloped and uneven, and Jyn desperately tries to scurry along beside him to meet the lengths of his great stride.

               “We must leave quickly.”

 

               No more than two years later, Jyn found herself on Sullust in the middle of yet another conflict. Saw and his band of rebels travelled throughout the galaxy trying to overturn the rule of the Empire wherever they could, and with nowhere else to go, she was dragged along with them. It was what her father would have wanted, she told herself, and while at the present Saw kept her out of the front lines for as long as possible, she knew that it was only a matter of time before he approached her and tried to teach her to fight for herself. That day was coming closer and closer with each day that she got older, and when Saw finally told her that she was ready, it didn’t surprise her in the least.

               He set up a small training field on the vast obsidian lava fields, commonplace on a planet that was so hot and volcanic. She had much preferred the temperate climate of Sil’Lume, but that planet had been liberated, self-sufficient against the Empire, and Saw had insisted that they move on within the fortnight. Now they were here, and it appeared that this was finally the planet where Jyn was going to learn how to fire a blaster. It was no surprise that Saw had chosen the A280 for her to learn on, considering how many they had available. It was the easiest of all models to find, considering how readily they were available on the black market, and Saw’s men were able to track down and commandeer entire shipments with ease.

               “I think it’s too big,” Jyn says as he places one into her small hands, which were streaked with the dirt and the charcoal of the planet’s surface.

               “Nonsense,” Saw replies as he offers her a friendly smile, and Jyn forces the corners of her lips upwards to return it. “Now, this weapon is not a toy, Jyn. You must be very careful when firing. This blaster has more power at long range than any other model currently available, and we’re very lucky to have them.” He points to the edge of the gun before he sets his hand on the top of him. “This one is equipped with a power charge system and an integrated muzzle compensator. Do you know what that means?”

               “No,” Jyn replies, looking up at him with childish ignorance, and Saw hesitates for a moment as if trying to figure out the best way to explain it to a child.

               “It has a variable output,” Saw explains. “As with any blaster, you pull the trigger, and it will fire; however, with this blaster, you can choose the power of your shot, which is why it’s only available on the black market. You can hold onto the trigger, you can charge your shot for as long as you can, and when you finally release it, it will release a bolt so powerful that it could pierce straight through a Stormtrooper’s armor.”

_Or your mother’s chest._

               “I don’t think I’m ready for this,” Jyn offers hesitantly, but Saw just shakes his head adamantly, as if he’s come to a decision and there was nothing that she could do in order to change his mind.

               “You need to learn,” he tells her firmly as he moves her into position, setting her shoulders at an angle with the tip of the blaster and before putting a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her down onto the ground. She does so, letting the tip of the blaster rest on the small rampart he had constructed. “Put your knee up, like that.” She follows the motions of his hand as she supports herself on one knee, pushing herself into the ground as she mentally tries to prepare herself for the kickback that such a large weapon was inevitably going to produce.

               There was a small target made out of an old crate that had been smashed on one side and was of no further use to them set up about forty meters away. “You see that target?” Saw asks, and Jyn obediently dips her head forward in the affirmative. “Keep your shoulder at a slight angle to the target and keep both hands on the blaster, always. Slightly bend your elbows. If you fire with straight arms, your blaster will just kick and you’ll never hit what you’re aiming for. When you feel stable, squeeze the trigger.”

               Jyn hesitates for a moment as she remembers how her mother had died, how she had watched her sink into the ground and collapsed while smoke rose from the small hole in her chest. Then again, it had been her mother who had fired first, trying to stop them from taking her father away. If her blaster bolt had hit its mark, if she had succeeded, then maybe they would still be with her now. Maybe…

               She screws her face up and squeezes her eyes shut, turning her face away as she pulls the trigger. The recoil was not as heavy as she was expecting, but the way that she had turned her head meant that her upper arms had absorbed most of the impact instead of being directed towards the ground, and she can feel a slight tug of pain travel up into the sore spot where her neck met her shoulder. From behind her, she can hear Saw make a small hum of disapproval in the back of his throat, and she opens her eyes just in time to see the blaster bolt pierce the ground way off in the distance, more than just a few meters wide of its mark.

               “I’m sorry,” she offers in a childish voice, twisted her body around so she can look up at him.

               To his credit, Saw’s face relaxes as he smiles down at her. “Patience, Jyn. With practice, you will improve.”

               Jyn nods her head forward, and she can tell that he’s silently waiting for her to take initiative, waiting for her to prove herself, to prove that she was ready for this, to enter the kind of life that he led each and every day. She didn’t know if she was ready for that. She didn’t even know if she would want that, but her father had told her to stay with Saw. For right now, Saw meant safe, and he was teaching her how to protect herself, to make sure that the Empire would never be able to take her the same way they had taken her father.

               She tried to picture him behind her now, pretended that it was her father coaching her on how to wield a blaster, only she couldn’t quite formulate the picture of him in her mind as clear as she once did. Still, she let the thought try to comfort her as she reseated the blaster nozzle on the rampart, readjusting her position on the ground until she felt as though she had more support before lining the tip of the blaster up with the target.

               “Good, Jyn.” She can hear Saw’s words, so quiet in the stillness that she could barely be sure she heard them, but a part of her almost allowed herself to believe that it was her father saying them instead.

_Good, Jyn. You can do this._

               She breathes in through her nose and lets an exhale drift slowly through her parted lips, repeating the motion one more time before she fires her shot. It doesn’t hit the target, but it’s much closer this time, sinking into the obsidian a few meters shy of her target and just a little bit too far to the right. Patiently, she repositions the blaster against the rampart again as she repeats the motion, making sure to regulate her breathing before she fires.

               It took her nine more shots before she could hit the base of the crate, and three more until her charge pack finally depleted and Saw had to replace it for her. “I want to learn how to do that,” she says as she watches him trade out the charge pack for a fresh one. “I want you to teach me how to do that.”

               “In time, Jyn,” Saw says with a light chuckle as he hands the blaster back to her. “For now, just keep firing.”

               And so she did. She took aim, felt the blaster hum beneath her steady fingers, before she pulled the trigger and fired over and over again until she hit the target, once, twice in a row, three times in a row. Even after Saw had instructed her to go in for the night, she had quietly snuck back out again later, practicing only when she was sure no one was watching. Practice made perfect, and the only way that she would ever be able to defend herself against the man who had taken her father, the man who might someday come for her, was to keep firing.

               And that’s exactly what she intended to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for this prompt!! I had a lot of fun writing this, I really did. Blaster technology is really interesting to me, and I always love an opportunity when I can insert it naturally into a fic. On a quick sidenote, I hear you loud and clear, you want more RebelCaptain, and my next ficlet will definitely be just that. ;)


	5. idle comments (Jyn + Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: K-2SO likes to comment on Captain Cassian's life. His most recent round of observations include the Captain's increasing attraction to the new (probably homicidal) human who goes by the name Jyn Erso. Cassian really wishes that he didn't.  
> Requested by: [a-non-sequitur](http://a-non-sequitur.tumblr.com/)  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, K-2SO, Bodhi Rook  
> Word Count: 1819  
> *spoilers*

               “Why are we doing this?”

               K-2S0’s droning voice sounds more disinterested than usual, and Cassian can’t help but sigh as he glances up from his datapad. They were going to have to leave for Scarif _quickly_ if they wanted to leave at all, and right now K-2SO’s questions and tacit refusal to complete the preliminary shuttle checks before he got the answers he wanted was frustrating at worst, annoying at best.

               “Because,” Cassian says, choosing his words carefully. “You heard her back at the briefing. She wants to fight, she’s _ready_ to fight. She’s her father’s daughter. She’s ready to do this.” As he shakes his head, his mind drifts back to the words she had used, but he was not struck by her voice, but rather, the passion in them.

               _What chance do we have? The question is_ What choice? _You want to run? Hide? Plead for mercy? Scatter your forces? You give way to an enemy this evil with_ this much _power and you condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission. The Empire doesn’t care if you surrender. The Empire doesn’t care if you’re hopeless. I’ve given up before, and it doesn’t help. It doesn’t_ stop. _I’ve seen people lose everything because they happened to be in the way. The time to fight is_ now, _while we’re still alive to try. Every moment you waste is another step closer to the ashes of Jedha.”_

The words had struck a chord in them, as they did, he suspected, with everyone. Unfortunately, there were still too many who weren’t ready to give up everything for the Rebellion, too many who still feared what the Empire could take from them before realizing that they had already lost everything.

               K-2SO just turns his robotic head slightly. “You just like her because she quoted you.”

               Cassian hesitates for a moment before he remembers the words he had told her back on Jedha, the very words that she had uttered in her desperate appeal. _Rebellions are built on hope._ So his words had gotten through to her, then. Still, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was really anything he had said to her that had helped her realize that this was a cause worth fighting for, even worth dying for. She had lost her father. She had pretended for so long that he was dead just to make the pain easier, but after seeing him lying there, after watching him die in her arms, it was clear that Jyn suddenly realized that the Empire had taken away everything from her, and she couldn’t let it take what she had lost from anyone else. It was the same thoughts that had entered his mind when he had lost his parents in the war, and he was almost comforted to see her sudden burst of fervent enthusiasm for the Alliance, especially when it was more than clear that Jyn was the sort of person who would do anything she set her mind to. She was intent on going to Scarif herself, but he was going to be right there beside her.

               “I happen to think it’s because you like her,” K-2SO offers, and the datapad almost slips from his gloved hands as he whirls around to face his companion. Cassian almost thinks he can hear a snicker from somewhere off behind him, as his small team of fighters unloaded crates to make room for all the extra rebels, but he chooses not to acknowledge it.

               “I-” Cassian isn’t sure whether to deny it out right or try to twist the words into a somewhat more palpable meaning. “Of course I like her, she’s my friend.”

               “She’s not my friend,” K-2SO says, although there’s almost a hint of sadness in his voice. Cassian just shakes his head as he moves past K-2SO to make sure everything else was in order, but K-2SO seemed intent on getting answers. “Well?”

               “Well, what?” Cassian spun around, only to K-2SO standing directly in front of him, his cool metal exterior only inches from Cassian’s nose. “What are you doing?”

               “Your heart rate’s increased.” K-2SO continues to study him, silently, and Cassian just lets him do so as he swallows a lump in his throat. “You don’t want to tell me. You don’t trust me.”

               Great. He was sulking. K-2SO was sulking, again, like a child who didn’t get his way. Ordinarily, Cassian would let him come out of it on his own accord, but he needed him to complete the flight checks before they could take off. “Hey, hey, hey,” Cassian says quickly, dancing through the narrow space in the cluttered hallway to come around to K-2SO’s other side.  “Of course I trust you. Look at you. You got us out of that scrape on Jedha, _twice_ , not to mention all the other times you’ve saved my life over the years. We’re a team.”

               “And now you’re going to replace me.” K-2SO just folds his arms over his chest as he looks away, and Cassian has to use all the power within him not to openly groan. He couldn’t tell if K-2SO was being sincere or openly baiting him, but for a droid, it was pretty hard to tell.

               “Hey, no one’s going to replace you,” Cassian says quickly, filling his voice with all the warm assurance he can muster. “Jyn is going to be helping us out with this one mission, that’s all. Who knows where she’s going to go after that?”

               “But _you’re_ hoping she stays with the Rebellion.” K-2SO wasn’t going to let this drop, and with the amount of people coming and going behind him, Cassian was quickly becoming unnerved as to just how many people might be able to overhear their conversation.

               “Okay, listen,” Cassian says quietly, dropping his voice in the hopes that K-2SO might pick up on the fact that he wasn’t exactly being subtle. “Maybe I do like her. She’s got invaluable skills that she could bring to the team-”

               K-2SO’s metallic joints creak as he adjusts his gait. “Just as I thought,” he says abruptly. “With your human emotions, your attraction has blinded you to the fact that she is probably as homicidal as she is reckless.” He pauses for a moment as he fixes his eyes on Cassian. “She almost shot _me_.”

               “She knew that wasn’t you,” Cassian says quickly, hoping that K-2SO didn’t pick up on this lie as well. In the heat of the moment, he could hardly have blamed Jyn if she had, but then again, if K-2SO did happen to go down, there wasn’t a chance that any of them would have gotten off Jedha alive.

               “Not that it matters,” K-2SO says with a sigh. “I’ve done my calculations, and the odds that any of us will come out of this mission alive are below even one percent.”

               “Don’t count us out just yet,” Cassian advises. “We have come out of worse before.”

               “Maybe,” K-2SO offers, and Cassian is about to consider the conversation over and get back to work when K-2SO continues. “I still don’t know what you see in her.”

               “Can we have this conversation later?” Cassian snaps, trying to conceal the heat that was quickly rising to his cheeks.

               “Well, no need to get defensive,” K-2SO replies curtly, crossing his long, slender arms over his chest.

               Cassian takes a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. “We can discuss this when and if we return,” he says in a low voice. “Because if we don’t, then I don’t think it matters very much then, does it?”

               “Well, if you needed to take a moment to say your goodbyes,” K-2SO offers, gesturing towards the back of the ship. “I believe the lavatory is currently unoccupied if you’d like your privacy.”

               Cassian opens his mouth, but the words won’t even come. He had gotten used to K-2SO’s smart mouth before, or at least he thought he had, but this was on another level. “Will you stop this?” he hisses in a hushed tone, trying to keep his voice from rising to its full volume. “If she happened to hear what you were saying, I-”

               “And what’s he saying about me this time?” Cassian’s jaw clicks shut before he slowly turns to face Jyn who was standing there, arms crossed over her chest, hips jutted out to one side. Her eyebrows were raised, and her face was composed as she stood there patiently, waiting to hear what it was that he was keeping from her.

               “He-” Cassian gestures to K-2SO to take over before he realizes he didn’t really want the droid saying anything. If anything, K-2SO seems to be enjoying his trepidation as he stands there silently, glancing between them. “He was just, uh, worried about how to tell you that the ship is experiencing some, uh, delays.”

               “Delays?” All the patience disappeared from Jyn’s face in an instant as she glances between them. “What do you mean _delays_? We don’t have time.”

               “I know,” Cassian says quickly. “I know, I know, but they’re working on it, and-”

               “Captain!” He glances past Jyn towards Bodhi, who was quickly coming up the boarding ramp. “Status report.”

               Jyn glances towards Cassian expectantly, and he’s almost too confused to find the words to speak. “What is it?”

               “Delays have all been dealt with,” Bodhi replies simply. “We’re ready to leave when you are.” He nods towards Jyn and claps Cassian on the back before he heads up the ladder to enter the cockpit, and Cassian stands there for a moment, completely and totally dumbfounded, but grateful all the same.

               “Guess we better get going then,” Jyn says simply as she flashes him a small smile, before turning and heading up the ladder after Bodhi. He pushes the corners of his lips upwards to force a small smile back in return, waiting until she was out of sight until he turned back to K-2SO.

               “Well, that was lucky,” K-2SO offers. “Hopefully our odds will be just as auspicious if we have any hope of surviving.”

               “I think we’ll be fine,” Cassian replies, but even as he says those words, he can’t help but catch a glimpse of Chirrut’s knowing smile, and even though he’s not looking in his direction, he knows in the back of his mind that it’s directed towards him. He briefly considered talking to Jyn before they took off, but the timing wasn’t right. She still didn’t trust him, she had just lost her father, and they were about to take off on what could possibly prove to be the most crucial mission in turning the tide of the war in favor of the Alliance.

               And, also, as much as he hated to admit it, if it came down to summoning the courage to tell Jyn how he felt or charging into a battalion of Stormtroopers on Scarif, he’d rather take the Stormtroopers.

               …maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually gotten started on another rebelcaptain fic, but I loved this prompt so much I had to do this one first! I might be posting that one or a SpiritAssassin (Baze x Chirrut) fic tomorrow, depending on what comes to me! I'm going to see Rogue One again tomorrow, so we'll see which one currently hurts more by the time I leave the theatre. xD As always, hope you enjoyed it!! Cheers!!


	6. blind (Chirrut x Baze)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Before RO Baze and Chirrut are captured by the Empire or someone and Chirrut has a force inhibitor put on him. He panics because he's so used to being able to see with the Force and now he's truly blind. Baze is there for him though / Could we maybe get a cute little spiritassassin proposal shot?  
> Requested by: Anon / [jumpingjaxx13](http://jumpingjaxx13.tumblr.com/)  
> Characters: Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, Stormtroopers  
> Word Count: 1825  
> 

               It was bound to happen sooner or later, they just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

               “Let’s go,” the Stormtrooper says, pushing Chirrut and Baze into the back of an armored transport, directing them with the tip of a blaster Chirrut couldn’t see. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”

               “Trouble?” Chirrut asks, struggling to find his way up the back of the boarding ramp that he knew was somewhere in front of him. “We weren’t causing any trouble.”

               “Oh no?” the Stormtrooper asks, but his voice is dry. “What do you call murdering six of our best troops?”

               Chirrut thought about pointing out the fact that they were harassing a defenseless girl, but he knew that wouldn’t mean much to them.

               “Entertainment,” Baze scoffs at length, and Chirrut can feel the corners of his lips curve upwards into a happy smile.

               “Hold on just a minute.” A different voice, still a Stormtrooper, but different from the one that had spoken previously. He lays a hand on Chirrut’s shoulder, and through the Force, he can feel concern bubbling hot in Baze’s veins. “This one. This is the one we were warned about.”

               “You were warned about a blind man causing trouble?” Chirrut asks. “And what kind of trouble can a blind man cause, exactly? I can’t even see.”

               “He’s got some kind of connection to the _Force_ ,” the Stormtrooper tells the others, making sure to emphasize the last word to show how ridiculous it sounded. “Anyway, they want us to put him in these.”     

               Chirrut holds up his shackled hands by his face and gives them a good shake. “Are these not good enough?” he asks. He can feel gloved hands grab his wrist as they undo the cuffs, placing new, tighter ones around his wrists before they release him again.

               Suddenly, he was alone, very, very alone. There was darkness in front of him, behind him, on either side of him, but this was different than the darkness that usually obscured his vision. This wasn’t darkness, this was emptiness. Nothing. He couldn’t see, and what was worse, he couldn’t feel. Baze had been right behind him, he was so sure of it. There had been people around him, but now it was almost as though he was standing in the middle of an empty darkened room, completely unable to see or feel anything around him.

               “Baze?” he calls out hesitantly, and for a moment he wondered if he had truly been transported to another dimension. Maybe the Stormtrooper had decided to have some fun and give him a good knock in the back of the head, and he had suffered an aneurism and dropped dead on the spot.

               “I’m right here,” Baze replies immediately, sounding much closer that Chirrut felt him to be. His voice was quiet, but it hardens as he addresses the people around him. “What’d you do to him?”

               “Force inhibitor,” one of the Stormtroopers replies. “Was said to work on Jedi, figured it would work on him. Now get in the back.”

               Chirrut feels a hard shove on his shoulder and somehow manages to stay upright as he stumbles his way into the back of the transport. He could hear his footsteps echoing off the walls, could use that sound to try to determine the size of the transport they were in to help Baze figure out a way to escape, but suddenly that seemed the least of his concerns right now.

               “Take a step back,” Baze instructs suddenly from somewhere in the darkness. “Then sit.”

               Chirrut does as he’s told, slumping back against the wall until he slides down to take a seat. He holds his hands out in front of him, waiting until the metallic doors shut with a clang behind him before he dared to speak again.

               “Baze?”

               “Yeah?”

               “Are we alone?”

               Baze pauses for a moment as if surveying the inside of the transport, or maybe he was just curious as to why Chirrut couldn’t sense anyone himself. “Yeah,” he says at length, although his voice has more of a reserved edge. “Yeah, we’re alone.”

               “I don’t know what they’ve done to me,” Chirrut says, the fear echoing in his voice. “I can’t feel you. I can’t feel anyone.”

               “Hey, it’s okay.” He can hear the chains clinking as Baze readjusts his position, as his knees bump against his own as he moves to sit directly across from him. “Here, hold out your hands. I’ll see if I can get the cuffs off.”

               Chirrut lets out a snort. “Good luck.”

               “I don’t need luck, I have you,” Baze replies softly, and for a moment time seems to stand still as Chirrut can feel Baze’s calloused hands around his own. It’s the only thing he can feel right now, the only thing he’s able to sense, and yet the sensation of just this skin to skin contact was bordering on overwhelming. “Can you try to get free?”

               “I can try,” Chirrut offers as he lets his eyes slip closed. “I am one with the Force, the Force is with me, I am one with the Force, the Force is with me, I am one with the Force-”

               “I mean _actually_ try,” Baze snorts. “The Force can’t hear you now.”

               “The Force can always hear me,” Chirrut replies. “There may come a time when I abandon the Force, but the Force will never abandon me.”

               “Well I don’t see that happening any time soon,” Baze replies gruffly, and Chirrut can feel himself relax somewhat.

               “Pray with me,” Chirrut says, and it’s both a question and a statement.

               “It’s not going to help,” Baze says flatly, but Chirrut just sits there patiently, his expression unchanging, and eventually Baze lets out a sigh as he puts his hands on either side of the cuffs and braces, as if he’s trying to pull them apart. “Fine, let’s do this.”

               “I am one with the Force, the Force is with me,” Chirrut chants, his words blending together in quick succession as he repeats the words over and over again, faster and faster, as if desperately willing the Force to return to him.

               “The Force is with me, I am one with the Force,” Baze chants, reversing the mantra somewhat, truly proving himself to be Chirrut’s other half. He didn’t need to believe in the Force. He didn’t need to believe in some mystical energy that was said to control people’s fate. He believed in what he could see, what he could feel, and he believed in Chirrut.

               Their words mix together in the stale air of the armored transport. It wasn’t a holy place to pray like back in the temple. It was a dirty place, a place of regret and heightened emotions of fear and apprehension, but Chirrut let all those emotions float away from him as he concentrated on Baze’s presence, as he concentrated on being able to feel him again. He was blind without the Force, but through Baze, he felt as though he was still able to see.

               And suddenly he _could_ see. Baze was there, right in front of him. He could sense two Stormtroopers in the front of the armored transport. He could feel the size of the transport, could suddenly hear the loose lock clicking against the outside door as it hummed slightly over the ground. Baze could probably break it open with ease. He was strong enough, he knew, and as if to confirm this, his ears suddenly registered the sound of the Imperial binders snapping from his wrists.

               “How?” Baze asks, and Chirrut is pleased that he is once again able to sense his friend’s sense of bewilderment. Not awe, it was never awe, but confusion and a mingled sense of respect for his friend and his apparent abilities.

               “I am one with the Force,” Chirrut says simply. “And the Force is with me.”

               “Yeah, yeah,” Baze says, and after a brief moment, Chirrut can hear the sound of his own binders breaking as he pulls his hands apart. Baze was strong, stronger than most, and it would take more than a set of Imperial binders to be able to contain him. “So where do you want to go now?”

               “Back to the temple,” Chirrut says evenly, but Baze just snorts in reply.

               “The temple’s gone,” he says simply. “If we go back there, we’re just going to end up right back in this truck.”

               “Then we best get comfortable,” Chirrut replies, but Baze seems determined to disagree.

               “It’s time to give this up, Chirrut,” he says with a sigh. “We need to move on, go somewhere else. We need to find a new home.”

               Chirrut frowns as he leans forward, placing his hands on both knees. “The temple may be gone, Baze, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have a home.”

               “If you say one more thing about the Force-” Baze warns, but Chirrut simply shakes his head.

               “As long as we’re together, wherever we are, that is our home,” Chirrut says, his words ringing out strong and clear.

               Baze snorts as he shakes his head, but he can’t help but chuckle underneath his breath, shaking his head from side to side. Such statements of affection from either of them were scarcely heard aloud. They tended to comfort each other with gentle mocking and idle jabs, but sometimes there were words that needed to be said, and this was one of those times.

               “Does it matter where we go as long as we’re together?” Chirrut asks him, his voice serious, and it’s clear that he’s waiting for an answer.

               “S’pose not,” Baze replies simply as he grunts and gets to his feet. “Back to the temple it is then, if that’s what you wish.”

               “It is,” Chirrut says as he also gets to his feet. “That is, if you think we can find a way out of here.”

               Baze takes a few quick steps towards the door, and Chirrut can hear the heavy pounding of his fists against the metal. Once, twice, and suddenly he can feel a blast of warm air on his face as a smirk tugged to the corner of his lips. “After you then?” Baze asks, and Chirrut works his way to the end of the transport without a doubt in his heart. He couldn’t see what the ground looked like beneath him, but he was sure that Baze would not let him go until it was absolutely safe to do so. The Force had given him the power to see after all, just through different eyes.

               “As long as you’re behind me,” he says as he crouches down, preparing to make the jump.

               “Like I have a choice,” Baze replies as he jumps out of the transport after Chirrut. He would always be following after Chirrut, it seemed, always prepared to be there for him when he needed him.

               And Baze didn’t mind in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I admit that I may have stretched the proposal a little bit there, but I really like the sort of romances where it's just sort of the spirit of, "You and me to the end of the line" and they don't ever outright say how they feel about each other, sort of like Han's, "I know" instead of, "I love you too." But maybe that's just me!! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!! Cheers!!


	7. thirst (Bodhi Rook x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ok but when are we gonna start writing Bodhi x readers because I am tired of waiting and need fluff with the little cinnamon pilot  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Bodhi Rook, You/Reader, Original Characters  
> Word Count: 1935

               You helped bartend a simple tavern on the outskirts of Jedha City. It wasn’t a luxurious job, or much of a job at all. You didn’t get paid, but the job did provide you a safe space to sleep and food, more food than most could probably afford. The cost of living had inflated exponentially since the Empire rolled in, not that they cared much for the local economy. Some businesses were forced to close, some citizens becoming homeless and starving nomads who thought of nothing but their next meal, but fortunately for you, wine and ebla were always going to be a staple in the galaxy, and people would pay whatever they had to in order to get it.

               And, as you quickly discovered, they were willing to tip generously in order to get the good stuff that you usually kept in the back room. It was supposed to be reserved for Imperial soldiers, but their visits were infrequent and that was something you were grateful for. You didn’t get many Stormtroopers, but the place was often frequented by low-level auxiliary staff of the Empire, like cargo pilots and heavy lifters whose sole job was to make sure that they kept the Empire running, doing grunt work that must have meant they were unfit for combat duty. You couldn’t think of any other reason why anyone would work for the Empire unless they were either a spy or they had been, well, _conscripted._

One day, you were just working your usual shift when suddenly the doors opened and an Imperial cargo pilot walked in. It was still early in the morning, and this would have been just as normal as it could be, except for the look on his face. His dark eyes were wide and his tongue was hanging out of the corner of his mouth as if he hadn’t had a drink in days. Judging by the sweat that still clung to his brow and the edges of his mustache, you were guessing that he probably hadn’t.

               “Are you all right?” you ask him as he approaches the counter. There’s something off about his gait, as if it was seriously taking just about everything he had in him to keep propelling himself further. “Do you need a drink?”

               “I-” He tries to speak but coughs up only dust. “I could use one, yes, but I’m afraid I have nothing to pay you with.”

               You study him for a moment, cautiously, before you gesture for him to have a seat. “Water’s free,” you tell him as you turn around to get him a glass, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t. Ignoring the fact that it was probably going to come out of your rations later. Still, you could always make the argument that he was a servant of the Empire, and you didn’t know how far up his connections went. He was low-level, yes, but he still served them, and the last thing you needed was for him to tell one of his superiors that he was denied a simple glass of water when he was clearing dying of thirst.  

               As you place it down in front of him, he doesn’t waste more than a second before he grabs it and raises it to his lips, drinking heavily before he seems to sense something in your gaze as you stare him down. He quickly lowers the glass and wipes at his mustache with the back of his hand, averting your gaze.

               “What are you doing out there without any water?” you ask him, placing your hands on your hips as you jut them out to one side. “If the heat doesn’t kill you, your thirst likely will.”

               “I ran out,” he breathes. His voice cracks on the last word and he shakes his head quickly, swallowing a lump in his throat. He pauses as he takes another quick sip of the water, as if trying to contain himself from drinking more. “I hadn’t, I hadn’t thought…I didn’t know it would be so far.” He pauses for another moment, seemingly steadying his resolve, before he looks up at you. “Saw Gerrera. Do you know that name? I need to find him.”

               You frown, looking him over. True, he didn’t have the composure that most Imperial servants had, but you had thought that was simply because of his frantic state. People often began to become more and more unhinged the closer they got to death, but now you were starting to think that there was more to him than met the eye. Perhaps one of the rebels simply disguised as an Imperial cargo pilot? If that was the case, he had more problems than dying of thirst if the Stormtroopers happened to see him.

               “Do you?” the pilot seems to sense your trepidation as he leans in a little further. “I have a message to deliver. You, him, everyone here? We’re all in danger.”

               “Oh yeah?” Kranik, a long-time customer, was sitting a few seats down, minding his own business as he so often did, but now he seemed interested in what this pilot had to say, pulling himself closer with one long tentacle. “In danger from what? The Empire? Big surprise there.”

               “You don’t understand,” the pilot replies, seemingly making a decision about something as he turns back to you. “My name is Bodhi. Bodhi Rook. I was an Imperial cargo pilot for the Empire, but I defected. I left. I was sent here by Galen Erso to find Saw Gerrera and give him a message.”

               “That we’re all going to die by the hands of the Empire?” Kranik asks with a morbid chuckle. “You don’t think he already knows?”

               “It’s much worse than that,” Bodhi counters immediately, his gaze hardening somewhat. “They’re building a weapon, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. It has the power to destroy entire planets, and they’re going to wipe entire systems off the face of the galaxy.” He turns back to you. “Which is why I need to warn Saw Gerrera. He needs to contact the Alliance, band everyone together to fight this, before it’s too late.”

               You hesitate for a moment, shaking your head as you glance over at Kranik who has fallen silent, perhaps considering the validity of this stranger’s words. “And how do we know you’re telling the truth?” you ask after a moment. “What proof do you have of this?”

               “The kyber crystals,” Bodhi responds immediately, as if he’s eager to prove his honesty. “That’s the secret. That’s the answer. They’re using the crystals to charge the weapon. That’s why they’re here. That’s why they want them.”

               “The boy makes a certain kind of sense,” Kranik admits as he settles back in his chair, turning back to his drink. “Of course, that doesn’t mean it still ain’t a load of bullshit.”

               “I’m telling the truth,” Bodhi says, raising his voice desperately as he turns back to you, his dark eyes pleading. “Please, you must believe me. We’re all in danger. I _have_ to get this message to Saw Gerrera. All our lives depend on it.”

               You let out a deep breath as you shake your head. You didn’t get involved in Imperial entanglements, as a rule. It would only spell out trouble for you and possibly result in you ending up out on the streets as well, but there was something sincere about this pilot that you couldn’t help but believe. If what he was saying was true and such a weapon truly did exist, it didn’t really matter what you did if the Empire decided to wipe Jedha City off the map. Then you would be gone, this place would be gone, and you doubted that even Saw Gerrera could do anything about it if the weapon that this pilot described was really as powerful as he said.

               “I don’t know where Saw Gerrera is,” you admit at length, drawing the words out slowly as you point to a corner booth. “But his men usually come here in the afternoons for a drink. If you wait, they’re bound to show up. You take his quarter-full glass from in front of him and refresh it before you hand it back to him. He looks confused, but you just let your shoulders rise and drop. “You might be waiting a while, and you’re no good to anyone if you die of thirst before you deliver that message.”

               “Thank you,” he says, and his voice quivers with gratefulness, as if this was the nicest thing someone had done for him in quite some time. Considering just how long he must have worked for the Empire, you couldn’t say that you were all that surprised. He searches his pockets for a moment, but seemingly finds nothing he looks back at you. “I don’t have anything, but I’ll find a way to repay your kindness for this someday, I will.”

               “You want to repay me?” you ask, a note of humor creeping into your voice. “Then make the Empire pay. This city is my home, and I’ve watched them run it into the ground. Whatever weapon they’re building, help Saw destroy it and I’ll consider us even.”

               “Done,” Bodhi says as a smile pulls to the corners of his lips, and you offer one in return as he retreats to the corner booth. Traffic increased during the mid-day shift breaks, but you kept your eye on Bodhi every so often, just to make sure that no one was giving him trouble. Eventually, you noticed some of the men in Saw’s team approached him, and after a back and forth of raised voices in an alien dialect you hadn’t quite yet learned to understand, they eventually ushered Bodhi out the door, pushing him roughly from behind.

               The whole incident had been mostly forgotten from your mind until a short while later when two Stormtroopers entered the bar, holding up a small holo of the rotating face of Bodhi Rook. When they asked if you recognized him, you simply shook your head and shrugged your shoulders, telling them that many Imperial cargo pilots frequented the bar, and you couldn’t keep a firm account of all of them. After a short while, they had left after questioning all the patrons, and in the back of your mind, you were glad that Kranik hadn’t been there. You didn’t know if he would have told them that he had gone off with Saw’s men, or if the Stormtroopers knew that already, but the more distance you claimed to have from the event itself the better, lest you be dragged off for _interrogation_ , as so many people were when the Empire first arrived.

               Funny how none of those people were ever seen again.

               Still, you were comforted by the fact that it meant that the pilot was probably still with Saw’s men, working on a way to defeat this new supersized weapon to help bring down the Empire once and for all. For you, this was the way things had always been, but Bodhi Rook represented something else. He represented hope, not only that things could improve, that things could get better, but that the Empire _could_ be defeated, if enough of their numbers were willing to turn away from what was easy and have the courage to do what was right.

               People always said that maybe all it would take was just one person to turn the tide of the Rebellion, and if that was true, you had a feeling that Bodhi Rook was that person. You could only hope you were right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally agree with the anon that sent this that there aren't enough Bodhi fics out there, so I took a little break from my usual rebelcaptain/spiritassassin postings to crank this out. I hope you enjoyed it regardless!! I should be back at it with more rebelcaptain tomorrow!! Until then, cheers!! <3


	8. young lovers (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Galen's contact when his home is invaded isn't Saw. It's someone from the Rebellion. Young!Jyn (9 y.o.) meets a Young!Cassian (13 y.o.). They grow up together - they fight together - they grieve together - they run together (- they love together).  
> Requested by: [a-non-sequitur](http://a-non-sequitur.tumblr.com/)  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 1052

               Jyn’s hands were softer than he had expected. They were small and stained with dirt, but he hadn’t let go of them, not once, since he had arrived. As it turned out, Saw was currently getting out of a scrape with the Empire, but he did manage to transmit Jyn Erso’s location to the Alliance, and figuring he was only a few short years older than she was, that she might be more willing to go with someone her own age. He had found the secret location that she had been hiding in himself, and just as they had hoped, she had come with him without a fuss. He had taken her hand as he pulled her out of her hiding spot, and had not let go of it the entire shuttle ride home, not until they were safely back on _Base One_ back on Yavin IV.

               From there, it had only been a matter of time until Jyn learned how to fight, until she had been trained just as he had been trained. Of course, given his age, he could easily slip in and out of places that others couldn’t get to, eavesdrop in places where other people wouldn’t think to look, and so he was often away on assignment. Still, Jyn was always happy to see his familiar face when he returned, and he couldn’t deny that he was happy to see hers as well. Quite often, she was the first person that he saw, waiting for him as soon as the boarding ramp descended.

               “Welcome back, Cassian Andor,” she says, her hands on her hips as she grins openly at him. “Took you long enough.”

               “Is she insinuating that our mission took longer than scheduled?” K-2SO asks, as if he’s affronted. “Because she should know that our mission took place within the scheduled parameters allotted, thank you very much.”

               “I think someone was looking for you, K-2,” Jyn replies, crossing her arms over her chest as she at least made a half-hearted attempt to conceal her disdain for the droid. “You better go find out who before they decide to mess with your circuits and reprogram you again.”

               “They would never,” K-2SO says as he glances at Cassian, who just shrugs in response. K-2SO glances between them before he makes a small noise of indignation and walks off, leaving Cassian and Jyn alone as they walk around the edge of the hangar.

               “The Ring of Kafrene is a dangerous place,” he tells her with a brief roll of his shoulders. “I think you would have preferred I took my time if it meant I came back in one piece.”

               “But you left no communication,” Jyn says as she shakes her head. “They were all worried about you. _I_ was worried about you.”

               “I’m sorry,” Cassian offers gently. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.” The back of his hand brushes against hers as she walks, but Jyn just shakes her head.

               “I want to be there,” she insists. “I’ve trained. I’m old enough. I want to go along with you on your next mission.”

               Cassian forces himself to smile, to try to look as though he actually disagreed with Mon Mothma’s decision to keep her on _Base One._ He knew that Jyn was getting restless, but Mon Mothma and the others did have a point. Jyn was the daughter of Galen Erso, a highly ranked Imperial science officer, and there plenty of people who would want to kidnap her and use her as leverage. There was no way that he was ever going to let that happen.

               “It’s not my decision,” he says simply, but it’s clear that Jyn isn’t going to let this go.

               “But they trust you,” Jyn says as she comes around to stand in front of him, blocking his path. “They’ll listen to you. You can convince them.”

               “Perhaps,” he offers as he spreads his hands by his sides. “Perhaps not.”

               Jyn’s expression sours, and for a moment, she looks visibly wounded. “You don’t want me to come with you,” she says quietly, and Cassian has to avert his gaze and look away. “What’s wrong? You have known me since I was nine years old. Don’t you trust me?”

               “Of course I trust you,” Cassian replies, looking back at her as he tries to convey his sincerity with his eyes. “I would trust you with my life.”

               “Do it, then,” Jyn insists. “Ask them to let me go with you.”

               “I can’t, Jyn,” Cassian says as he shakes his head. “If anything happened to you…” He lets his voice trail off, and Jyn’s expression softens as she takes a step closer to him, until they’re standing no more than an inch apart.

               “If anything happened to me?” she asks, eyebrows raised as she waits patiently for him to continue.

               Jyn was stubborn. It was something he had known, had always known, but then again, he was stubborn too. He liked to see her like this, tough, defiant, insisting on getting her own way. She tilts her head the other way, waiting for answer, waiting for some sort of verbal reply, but he finds that he’s unable to provide her with one. Instead, he leans forward quickly as he kisses her, brushing his lips against hers, and he’s almost surprised to see her so eagerly return it as she reaches up and slides one hand around the base of his neck, pulling him closer.

               They stand there in the middle of the hangar like that for a moment while people and droids and aliens of all different species continue with their work all around them, paying no mind to the romance that was unfolding right in front of them.

               “So you’ll ask?” Jyn asks breathlessly as she pulls away, and Cassian drops his chin to his chest as he concedes defeat.

               “I’ll ask,” he relents, and Jyn lets out a cheer as she takes his hand and leads him off towards the conference room, where he knew the others would be awaiting his debriefing. Jyn didn’t let go of his hand the whole way there, not until they were literally right outside the door to the briefing room, but he couldn’t say that he minded all that much.

               Jyn’s hands were always softer than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the more I watch Rogue One, the more I realize that Jyn and Cassian had so much chemistry, even before Jedha, and this is not helping my feelings. Another short rebelcaptain fluff fic will be up tomorrow, where they huddle in his puffy jacket with the fur lining!! ^_^ Until then, cheers!! <3


	9. the one where they cuddle (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: jyn x cassian -snuggling in that puffy jacket with the fur, because that coat is the cutest. ps. love your writing <3  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 838

               Jyn had no idea how they survived Scarif. Neither did Cassian, but that was besides the point. The point was that they had quickly become legendary, iconic heroes of the Alliance, and Jyn did not like the new attention that she was suddenly receiving. Neither did Cassian, if he was being totally honest with himself. He was a chief _intelligence_ officer, which meant that the less people who recognized his face, the better. And yet, somehow, now over half the galaxy knew that Captain Cassian Andor and rebellion fighter Jyn Erso had stolen the plans to the Death Star.

               That was why, when Cassian suggested they take a little time off for themselves and serve the Alliance off their fledgling base that they were still constructing on Hoth, Jyn quickly agreed without fully realizing what that meant. The air on Yavin IV had been thick and humid, rife with the stench of rotting vegetation and moss. It took Jyn a while to get used to it, but of course, now that she had, she was moving again, relocated to a base where cold was both a temperature, a feeling, and a sensation. On most days, it was too cold for her to even leave the security of the eight blankets that she had wrapped around her person at any given time.

               Cassian wasn’t much for the cold either, but he recognized that he had responsibilities that he had to attend to, and so he went about his business, covering for Jyn when the situation called for it, although that was pretty much a daily affair. One day, though, he was walking around his room, trying to figure out what had happened to his puffy jacket with the fur lining. It was the warmest jacket that he had, and even his warmest thermals made of merlie wool weren’t standing up to the frigid temperatures as well as he would have liked.

               He searched throughout his room for it, but it didn’t seem to be anywhere that he could find it. Was it possible that he had left it in Jyn’s room? They had neighboring rooms for a reason, but fortunately for them, nobody commented on what was clearly none of their business. He left his room and took only a series of small steps to her door, punching in the code in the small keypad beside her door, knowing that she would most definitely be inside.

               “Jyn?” he calls to her as he shuts the door behind him. “You in here?”

               “Do I go anywhere else?” she calls back from the bedroom, and Cassian tilts his head to the side in consideration. “What’s wrong? I thought you said you had a meeting to get to early this morning.”

               “I do,” Cassian replies as he glances around the sparse furniture in her living room.

               “You’re not making me go with you,” Jyn replies, and it’s both a question and a statement. Cassian lets out a snort of good humor as he checks around the small kitchen, but there wasn’t a sign of his jacket anywhere.

               “Not if you don’t want to,” Cassian calls back. He had tried _compelling_ her to go with him once before through less than honest means, and she hadn’t spoken to him for a week after that. That was the second longest week of his life, following the week that they had returned from Scarif. “No, I’m just looking for my jacket. Have you seen it?”

               “Your jacket?” Jyn asks, and there’s something off about her voice that he can’t quite describe. “Which jacket?”

               “My jacket,” he replies, gesturing vaguely with his hand as he appears in the doorway, expecting to see Jyn huddled under a thick fortress of blankets. She is, only this time, there was something else, a halo of faux fur around her head. “Are you wearing my jacket?”

               “Well, I’m not exactly wearing it,” Jyn offers, although a slight blush graces her cheeks, as if she was embarrassed about being caught in such a position. “It’s warm.”

               He was going to probably be late for the meeting, but that wasn’t on the forefront of his mind just now. “Are you going to hand it over?” Cassian asks, his voice dropping a bit lower. “Or am I going to have to take it from you?”

               Jyn smirks, her eyes dancing with mischief, and Cassian wastes no time in discarding his merlie wool outer layer as he darts under the covers with her. Jyn giggles in protest, and he can see that she’s stretched the jacket out like some sort of cushion, resting her head in its hood. He kisses her temple as he cuddles up in his jacket beside her, wrapping his large arms around her narrow frame.

               “Aren’t you going to be late?” Jyn asks as she moves into a more comfortable position, cuddling into his body heat.

               “Do you really care?” Cassian asks as he raises an eyebrow, and Jyn just bites her lip as she grins in response.

               “No, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, these two are just killing me. I don't know how many of you have read the novelization yet, but I highly recommend it. There's so much more heartbreaking rebelcaptain moments in the books than they show in the movie, and, ugh, it's killing me. Tomorrow's prompt is going to feature K-2SO again, because he's still one of my favorites, and writing him is just a wee bit less painful. Until then, cheers!! <3


	10. shot and wounded (K-2SO and Cassian Andor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Yo yo yo for your rogue one fic prompt thing could I get some cassian and k2so interaction? Maybe cassian gets hurt or somethin and k2so is surprisingly caring? I don't know I just really love k2so  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: K-2SO, Cassian Andor, Bail Organa  
> Word Count: 1090

               “Why, just look at you, getting shot. I’m larger than you and they still managed to miss me.”

               “Now’s not the time, K!” Cassian yells, his voice strained and coarse in the cold air as he stumbles up the boarding ramp. He slips on the very last step, and a stray laser blast from a Stormtrooper’s blaster dances off the metal in a shower of sparks. He lets out a cry as he tries to pull himself up, when he’s quickly grabbed from behind by a strong, metallic arm that pulls him the rest of the way onboard as the boarding ramp begins to shut behind him.

               He knows he should be grateful for the intervention, but right now, he’s anything but. He shouldn’t have been noticed. They shouldn’t even know that he was here, but now they did, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. “K, will you _take off_?” he demands, and K-2SO just shakes his head as he heads up towards the cockpit.

               “I just saved your life, you know,” he notes, pausing with his hands on the ladder. “You could be a little nicer.”

               Cassian just lets his head drop back against the cool metal floor as blasts rock the outside of the ship. He fights through a bout of nausea as the ship rises up into the air, and takes off, although he can’t really be bothered to ask where exactly they were going right now. He had taken a direct hit to his side, and although Stormtroopers were notorious for their bad aim, this bolt had hit him straight on. It didn’t hurt to breathe, not yet, but Cassian could feel his thoughts starting to move sluggishly around the inside of his brain.

               “…and we’re headed out of this system,” a voice says before Cassian could even recognize someone was talking. He must have been in worse shape than he thought, as K-2SO stands over him, starring down at him with his reflective, beady eyes. “Are you all right?”

               “I don’t know,” Cassian replies, and there’s a slight whine that escapes his lungs that he doesn’t quite like as he speaks.

               “You humans,” K-2SO scoffs as he gestures vaguely into the air with one hand. “Always so fragile. You know, if you replaced your limbs with parts, this wouldn’t happen.”

               “That’s not…where I got…hit,” Cassian wheezes as he struggles out of his jacket, pulling up the corner of his shirt. He didn’t want to look at it, wouldn’t dare, but K-2SO does, and his silence tells him all that he needed to know. “K, I-”

               “You’re going to be fine,” he says immediately, as if trying to confirm this to himself. “Yes, absolutely. According to my calculations, there is a seventy-three percent chance that you’re going to make a full recovery.”

               “ _Point_ seven three, maybe,” Cassian wheezes, letting a small smirk pull at the corners of his lips. “Listen, when we get back to base, you need to…you need to tell them-”

               “Cassian, I am extremely sorry, but I seem to be out of storage in my data banks,” K-2SO replies promptly. “You’re just going to have to live long enough to tell them yourself.”

               “Long…enough…” Cassian chuckles faintly, but the motion only sends a fresh wave of pain through his abdomen as he allows his head to roll back and to the side.

               “Cassian! Cassian!” He can hear K-2SO’s frantic pleading, but unfortunately there’s very little he could do to stop the wave of darkness that was quickly crowding over his vision. His thoughts suddenly seemed very far away from him, and the more he tried to reach them, the more he seemed to lose sensation to everything else. His hands, his arms, suddenly no longer felt as though they were a part of his body, and then even the pain in his abdomen subsided until he was unaware of everything around him.

               Until, at least, he woke up.

               His eyes blinked open and he glanced around him to see that he was in the infirmary wing, back on Yavin IV. He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, still damp with the bacta they had probably recently removed him from. He craned his neck, fighting through the stiffness in his muscles, to get a good look at his abdomen, only to see it covered in a thick series of bandages, probably to help preserve the fresh layer of bacta salve they had applied there.

               “Welcome back.” He glances up to see Senator Organa by his bedside, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

               “Bail,” he says as he looks him up and down, as if seeing him for the first time. “How long have I been out for?”

               “Two days,” Bail says, although his somber tone disguises any concern they had for his recovery. “You’re lucky to be alive. That was quite an injury you sustained.”

               “Yeah,” Cassian lets out a small laugh, trying not to wince as a fresh bolt of pain shoots through his core. “Yeah, they finally manage to hit something, and wouldn’t you know it happened to be me?”

               Bail lets out a good-natured chuckle as he shakes his head. “Your droid was quite concerned about you,” he notes, and Cassian just raises his eyebrows in response as he waits for the older man to continue. “He wouldn’t leave your side. He almost crashed into the hangar trying to get here in time, and then he carried you off the boarding ramp like you had already passed. He talked a mile a minute while you were in the bacta; we finally had to shut him down or we were worried that he was going to overload his circuits.”

               Cassian couldn’t help but grin in spite of himself. “He’s never going to let me live this down.”

               “Could always wipe his memory,” Bail suggests teasingly, but Cassian just shakes his head, as if he couldn’t even consider the idea.

               “You should boot him up again,” he advises. “I’m going to be fine, but I think he’s going to want to check and make sure that I’m okay himself.”

               “Agreed,” Bail says as he dips his head forward. He turns to leave, but not before he turns his head over one shoulder to cast a final look back in Cassian’s direction. “You know, you’re quite lucky. Droids like that are hard to come by.”

               “He’s not a droid,” Cassian replies with a good-natured shake of his head. “He’s a friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K-2SO may seriously be the best part of Rogue One for me. He's definitely my new favorite droid and I wish we could have seen a lot more of his and Cassian’s adventures together.


	11. injured and delirious (Chirrut x Baze)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: What if, after a fight with Stormtroopers, Chirrut is injured and delirious(concussion? bloodloss?) while Baze has to struggle to keep him conscious and calm but also focus on getting them somewhere safe so he can care for Chirrut?  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, Stormtroopers  
> Word Count: 1283

               You only live once, but if you do it right the first time, once is enough.

               That was what Baze had always thought since his indoctrination at the Temple. It was something he believed in, something he had been ready to commit the rest of his life to, and he would be, quite literally, damned, if he let Imperial forces proceed with the occupation of this sacred space when he still had air in his lungs and fight in his blood.

               That day, he thought they might win. The rebel forces of Saw Gerrera had helped thin out the numbers of advancing Stormtroopers somewhat, and they seemed on the verge of retreating. They would be back, he knew, as this was only one battle in a long series of battles, but he still couldn’t feel pleased that they had driven them back with so few numbers. He wasn’t a skilled fighter, but he had good aim, and that was enough for him.

               Well, _almost_ enough.

               He heard the sound of a wooden staff smash into the Stormtrooper’s thick helmet as he went down and couldn’t help but snort to himself as he allowed himself to smirk. He wasn’t _jealous_ of Chirrut’s skills, not really, but he couldn’t deny that he was impressed with them. Everyone was, and the only people who weren’t were fools who hadn’t yet seen what he could do with his staff with their own eyes. For a blind man, Chirrut had a sense of sight and clarity that most only wished they could achieve, and that was something Baze could say he was a bit jealous of.

               Suddenly he heard a faint whimper unlike anything he had ever heard from Chirrut before, and spun around to see him slump to his knees before his cheek hit the hard, stone ground in front of him. A Stormtrooper stood behind him, baton still raised for a downward strike, and Baze wasted no time firing his cannon at his opponent’s chest. The force of the blast sent him flying backwards a few feet, but the burning hole in his armor told Baze that he was no longer a threat as he rushed over to Chirrut’s side.

               “Hey, hey,” he whispers, picking Chirrut off the ground as he makes sure to support his head, wiping away a bead of blood that was trickling down from his hairline. “Are you all right?”

               Chirrut manages a sound that’s somewhere between a whimper and a groan, and Baze has to admit, for the first time ever, that this was a fight that Chirrut could no longer continue. Chirrut, who had so often fought long after everyone else was spent, could no longer hold his own. He could see the Stormtroopers pressing in now, possibly regrouping in an attempt to make one last desperate push on the Temple, but he could no longer stay and fight, not like this. He had to get Chirrut to safety, had to assess how badly he was injured, and hope that the others would be able to hold off the impending Imperial advance.

               Baze quickly hoists Chirrut over one shoulder and grabs his staff off the ground as he ducks out a side door and into a back alley, listening to the sounds of fighting still continuing inside. Chirrut stirs, as if he knows they should stay, knows they should fight, but he was in clearly no condition to even walk. He quickly scampers through the crowded streets of the city, grateful that no one seems to pay them much mind. It was disappointing how commonplace seeing someone carry an unconscious body through the streets was, but such were the times that they lived in now under Imperial rule.

               He brought him to a small deserted outpost in between two mammoth pillars that had probably once served as another market at some time, but Baze wasn’t in the mood to study the local architecture as he lay Chirrut down on the ground in front of him. “Hey,” he asks gently as he sets his staff down beside him. “Hey, are you doing okay?”

               “The…Temple…” Chirrut manages, but Baze just sits back on his haunches as he shakes his head, unsure of how to proceed. It didn’t occur to him at the time that Chirrut might be angry at him for abandoning the Temple, for running away when they should have stayed and fought to the last man to defend it.

               “I’m sorry,” Baze sighs as he dips his head, letting his eyes slip closed.

               “Don’t be sorry,” Chirrut replies, and although his voice is still weak, there’s some small note of strength there too, as if he was slowly coming back to himself. “All will be as the Force wills it.”

               “The Force didn’t protect you that time,” Baze notes, and Chirrut pauses for a moment before his lips pull back to reveal a wide grin.

               “No,” he admits. “It was the Force reminding me of my own fallibility. We cannot win every battle, my friend.”

               “No,” Baze agrees with a quick shake of his head. “No, if only it were that easy.”

               “This will not be easy,” Chirrut declares as he sits up. “But this is not a war we shall lose. We shall reclaim the Temple-” Baze watches for a moment as his companion idly grasps around in the dirt for his staff. “Baze, where is my staff?”

               With the sole of his boot, Baze deftly scrapes through the dirt, pushing it out of Chirrut’s reach. “Must have left it behind.”

               Chirrut’s head whips around to look at him suddenly, his eyes narrowed. “Baze.”

               “Yes, Chirrut?”

               “My staff?” Baze just chuckles as he shakes his head again, leaning forward so that he could put the staff in Chirrut’s extended palm. “That’s what I thought.”

               “I almost left it behind,” Baze offers, but Chirrut just shakes his head.

               “You are a terrible liar, Baze Malbus,” he replies, starring him down with those piercing blue eyes. “But thank you.”

               Baze shuffles uncomfortably in the dirt and says nothing. There was nothing that Chirrut should be thanking him for. He had gotten Chirrut out of there because, in that moment, that had been his top and only priority. He could lose the Temple and survive, but he couldn’t lose Chirrut and still live.

               “We should get back,” Chirrut says as he struggles to get to his feet. “They need us. We can still fight.”

               “You should rest,” Baze replies idly, but Chirrut is already heading off in the direction of the Temple, as if the Force was providing him with a tangible guiding hand.            

               “Baze Malbus,” Chirrut says to himself as he shakes his head, refusing to slow his pace. “Always so slow. He-” Baze looks up just in time to see Chirrut collapse to the side, falling back to the ground in a puff of dust.

               “Chirrut!” Baze was on his feet immediately, rushing over to his side, as Chirrut props himself up on one elbow, grinning sheepishly.

               “Or maybe I should rest,” he offers, and Baze lets out a sigh as he nods his head forward.

               “I think that’s a good idea,” he agrees, and Chirrut sets down his staff as he settles back into the dirt.

               “Baze?

               “Hm?”

               “Wake me up if anyone comes looking for us?” Chirrut was definitely back, all right, making sure to take care of Baze’s safety as well as his own.

               “That’s if I haven’t already left you behind,” Baze replies, and Chirrut’s face relaxes into a gentle smile as he closes his eyes.

               “You’d be lost without me, Baze Malbus,” Chirrut reminds him, and even Baze had to admit that that was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's Christmas Eve and I'm actually running a fever of 103 right now, but I've been releasing a prompt a day since the movie came out and I didn't want to break that streak!! I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I'm going to have a short Christmasy rebelcaptain fic up tomorrow!! Merry Forcemas Eve, everybody!! ^_^


	12. under the mistletoe (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cassian wants to help Chirrut celebrate the holidays. Jyn doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about.   
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 713

               “What are you even doing?” Jyn stood in the doorway, hands on her waist, hips jutted out to one side. Cassie stood on a small wooden stool in the center of the room, trying to affix some small green sprig to the ceiling.

               “Chirrut wants to celebrate,” Cassian says simply, as though he didn’t support this strange new custom any more than she did. Jyn makes a small noise in the back of her throat, and Cassian turns his head to shoot a glance in her direction. “He says this day brings positive energy. I think we could all use some of that.”

               “He’s been saying that _every_ day since we stole those plans,” Jyn says coolly as she crosses her arms across her chest. “I swear, between his superstitions and Bodhi’s gift-giving…” She shakes her head as she decides not to continue. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her a present and not a loaded blaster; not something to use, just something to _have_.

               “You know, it couldn’t hurt,” Cassian offers. “To at least pretend that you like this? For them?”

               Jyn opens her mouth as she balks at the insinuation, but the words get caught in her throat as she tries to speak. “I don’t _dislike_ it,” she says, but the words are still too defensive. She crosses her arms over her chest as she huffs and glances away. “Does it show?”

               “Only to me,” Cassian says as he turns back to his task, and Jyn’s grateful that it means he can’t see the hint of a blush that rose to the tops of her cheeks.

               “What do you think about this?” she asks, trying to turn the conversation away from thoughts of the family she had wanted but never had. “What do you think of this, this, _holiday_?”

               “I think it’s a welcome change from the way things have been as of late,” Cassian replies, but it still sounds like too safe an answer for Jyn to accept. Still, he continues as if he hadn’t noticed the flash of irritation across her features. “Maybe it’s a sign that things are finally headed in the right direction.”

               “Don’t do that,” Jyn says with an indignant shake of her head. “You know as well as I do that stealing the plans hasn’t solved anything, not yet. Chirrut’s just a blind optimist.”

               “Oh?” Cassian prompts, his eyes alight with malicious teasing. “Then what are you?”

               “I’m a realist,” Jyn replies promptly, but this only earns her a genuine laugh from Cassian, and it almost surprises her how much comfort she finds in it, like a warm blanket draped around her shoulders on a cold night.

               “No, I’m the realist,” he says as he turns back to her. “You’re a pessimist.”

               “Can you really blame me?” Jyn asks with a lame shrug of her shoulders, letting them rise and drop as she spreads her hands by her side. She watches as Cassian hops off the stool, moving it over to the corner of the room. “So, what is that speck of green supposed to help with anyway? Protection?”

               “Something like that,” Cassian says as he beckons for her to come closer, and she immediately complies, taking a few quick steps forward until she’s standing directly underneath it.

               “It’s supposed to be a symbol of love and friendship,” he continues, keeping his tone soft and gentle as Jyn stares up at it curiously. “When two people are underneath it, they’re supposed to… _kiss_.”

               Jyn makes a face as she suddenly grabs him by the front of his shirt, clenching the fabric between her slender fingers as she pulls him closer. For a moment, Cassian thinks she’s going to knock in his front teeth before she reaches up and presses her lips against his own. He parts his lips gently as he kisses her back, cupping her cheek in one hand as he wraps his arms around her, inhaling the distinctive scent of sandalwood that was so uniquely her own. As she deepens the kiss, he simply slides the tip of his tongue against her lower lip as he slowly pulls away, still keeping his face no more than an inch away from hers.

               “Merry Christmas, mi estrella,” he whispers softly.

               “Merry Christmas, Cassian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, here’s my present to you!! I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, and that you get a lot of awesome Star Wars presents!! Cheers!!


	13. stranded (Jyn x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Could we please get a Jyn Erso/fem!reader? Because I have fallen in love with this awesome lady and have not found any reader inserts for her. Fluffiness is encouraged (as is background Spiritassassin) (okay im done now XD)  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Reader, Stormtroopers  
> Word Count: 1488

               The sharp steel of the Imperial binders bit into Jyn’s wrists as she twisted them this way and that, trying to test their give.

               “Hey, you. Stop fiddling with your restraints or I’ll tighten them myself.”

               Jyn’s eyes drop as she glances away from the white helmet, not eager to see the domed white helmet staring back at her without being able to see the face beneath it. She hated those helmets. She hated that color. They were all so _white_ , just like the man who had ordered her mother be shot on the sandy beach of Lah’mu. Just like the man who had taken her father away. While the rebels had worn filthy, sweat-stained rags that helped them blend in with the civilians they were trying to save, the enemy wore brilliantly polished, monochrome, white, as if they were almost begging to be targeted.

               But that didn’t matter anymore, not to Jyn. They had _left her behind._ Saw had left her, as if she hadn’t already been abandoned enough for one lifetime. He had left her with a knife and a loaded blaster pistol and told her to wait until morning, and when morning had come, she had found all their speeders and ships gone, as if the desert sands had risen up and swallowed them whole.

               So she did the only thing that seemed reasonable.

               She went to a bar and drank her sorrows away.

               Of course, that was a place where young, pretty girls were likely to be taken advantage of. Not like Jyn really cared either way. Any statement of affection was better than none, although Jyn felt so lost and without direction that someone could have talked her into anything.

               And that’s exactly what you did. You were a common mix of a bounty hunter, a smuggler, and an assassin, just basically doing whatever it was that you could in order to survive in this galaxy, and perhaps that’s what attracted you to Jyn when you saw her sitting at the bar, her shoulders stiff and nursing her drink with one hand while her other hand sat conspicuously over her side pocket, obviously stroking the barrel of whatever blaster she had contained within.

               So you had offered her a job, and she had accepted outright without asking for any details, any sort of questions. You had simply walked up to her and told her that you had a dangerous job and you were looking for someone who could slip in and out of Imperial headquarters, unnoticed. Someone who could be discreet and blend in, without attracting too much attention to herself. Before you could even promise her a handsome reward, Jyn had simply shrugged and said, “I’m in,” turning back to you with glassy eyes. “When do we start?”

               She hadn’t asked your name. You hadn’t asked hers. That wasn’t relevant. What _was_ relevant was that Jyn needed work. She had to learn to survive on her own now, and you could provide that to her. You could help her fashion some kind of life for herself, and although Jyn didn’t truly know what kind of life she was living, it was still better than bouncing from planet to planet trying to figure out where to go and what to do next. No, you gave her a steady supply of work, and Jyn found out that she was actually _good_ at it. Saw’s training had helped teach her valuable skills to survive, and now she was putting that training to good use.

               Still, that was how Jyn eventually found herself at a docking station on the outskirts of the city, waiting to be relocated to an Imperial work camp for stealing classified documents. Maybe it was smart that she hadn’t learned the name of the bounty hunter that had hired her. It only meant that she couldn’t throw someone under the bus to save her own skin, although Jyn herself wasn’t sure how much her skin was actually worth these days. Her father had left her, and while that _may_ not have been by his choice, Saw had obviously thought there was something wrong with her in order to lie to her face and then slip away unnoticed, so he never had to bear the look on her face when he told her the _truth._

               Jyn didn’t want to think about what that truth might have been. She was good with a blaster. She was a good fighter. He had trained her well and while sometimes she didn’t always agree with Saw’s aggressive tactics that ranged from biochemical warfare to threatening more civilian lives than they would be saving under Imperial occupation, she had rarely verbally expressed her dissent. She had been loyal, dammit, and apparently this was what loyalty got you: a one-way ticket to an Imperial labor camp on Wobani, where Jyn would probably, most assuredly, meet her end.

               Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of blaster fire reached her ears and she quickly ducked her head on instinct, trying to focus on where the noise was coming from. There were other prisoners on the platform with her who started to cackle and pull against their restraints, as if they knew that this would either prove to be their liberation or their death. In truth, Jyn didn’t care much for the latter option, although she had to admit that quick death by blaster bolt was probably preferable to the long, drawn-out death that the Wobani labor camp would probably provide her.

               One by one, the Stormtroopers are shot down. Considering the high rocks on the ledge above them, they probably didn’t even see the tip of your blaster wedged between the rocks. Their helmets might have provided them a great deal of protection, but they were useless if they couldn’t see their opponent or who was taking aim at them, and this was exactly what you took advantage of just now.

               After all the Stormtroopers had been dispatched and most of the other criminals had fled, you watched as Jyn turned around and sat back against a rock, still fiddling with her cuffs, trying to work them free. You shook your head – the girl should _run_ , not stick around here to wait for back-up to arrive – but it didn’t stop you from making your way down to her position nonetheless.

               “You know, if you want to get those off, you could just _ask_ ,” you say as you swagger up to her, quickly releasing her from her restraints. Jyn lets you do it wordlessly, as her eyes drop down to the red marks around her swollen wrists. “You act like you’ve never been cuffed before. Don’t worry, the swelling should go down within a day, but the marks will probably last for-”

               “You came back for me,” Jyn says quietly, as if she almost can’t quite believe it. She looks up at you, blinking in the bright sun that left long shadows streaking across the dust. “I thought I was gone for good but you…you came back.”

               “Of course I did,” you reply smugly as you cross your arms over your chest and look down at her. “I couldn’t let my best girl get shipped off to who-knows-where, am I right?”

               “Wobani,” Jyn tells you firmly, her dark eyes suddenly cold and insistent. “They were going to take me to _Wobani._ ”

               Your smile falters, but only for a minute. “But you’re not going there,” you say, making sure to echo her firm tone. Sometimes, it seemed to be the only one that Jyn understood. “I’m not letting you go there, that’s never going to happen. You’re going to stay right here with me, do you understand that?”

               Jyn doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you’re wondering if perhaps she’s not going to respond at all before she finally stands up, leans forward, and presses her lips squarely against your own before you even have time to respond. You kiss her back, grabbing her by both hips as you push her roughly into the rock wall behind you. Jyn doesn’t break the kiss as she grinds her hips into your own, and you can smell the earthy scent of her hair as the harsh dessert winds blow her dark tendrils against your face as you lean in close, trailing fervent, eager kisses down her jawline. With one final well-placed nip on the lobe of her outer ear, you quickly draw back, gnawing at your lower lip as you do so.

               “As much as I’d like to take this further,” you venture, extending a hand towards hers. “There’ll be more troopers heading this way soon, and I don’t want to stick around to give them an easy suspect. Shall we continue this at my place, then?”

               Jyn meets your eyes as a soft smile graces the corners of her lips, accepting your offer as she intertwines her slender fingers with your own.

               “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's really funny that I got this prompt today because a friend of mine was asking me about a Jyn x female Bounty Hunter ficlet the other day and I had written something down but hadn’t really started it yet, and so I sort of combined the two ideas into this story. Sorry about the lack of spiritassassin...maybe in a future fic. ;)


	14. imperial entanglements (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Galen Erso never has an attack of conscience, & Jyn is a loyal (?) operative to the Empire. The Alliance needs information. They think Jyn is the weakpoint to get an in - and Cassian is ordered to do whatever's needed to get it.  
> Requested by: [a-non-sequitur](http://a-non-sequitur.tumblr.com/)  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 1900

               This was her life, it was the only one she had ever known. Jyn Erso had never questioned the ideals of the Empire; she simply never had a reason to. Her father, Galen Erso, was one of the Empire’s most important engineers, helping them build a super weapon that would crush all chaos and dissent in among the rebellious planets, thus sparing the lives of millions of troops in the process. She didn’t care much for the helmeted Stormtroopers and their faceless expressions as they passed by her in the halls, but she couldn’t deny that it was a good service her father was doing, trying to spare their lives all the same.

               Which is why she also devoted her life to the Empire, and while she wasn’t an engineer like her father, she had other talents that could be put to use. She had a knack for getting in and out of tight spots and gaining information, sneaking around on backwater planets while keeping her ear trained closely on the ground, listening closely for any seeds of dissent so she could steer the Empire towards whatever uprising was brewing before it even started. With her large eyes and slender frame, no one she crossed paths with would ever expect that she was working for the Empire. No, they took one look at her in her war-torn rags when she asked in a timid voice what _she_ could do to help the Rebellion, and they assumed that she was just like them: good, noble, and, unfortunately for them, misguided. The Empire was simply trying to bring the galaxy under one united rule and free them from the shackles of their own democracy, one that liked to preach equality while truly only benefiting the rich and the powerful. Under the Empire, however, there was no such illusions. People might have felt that they were sacrificing their freedoms, but such was a small price to pay for true equality.

               She had been good at what she had been doing, too, until one day when Governor Tarkin had approached her and asked her to help train a young man from Fest who was just as idealistic about the glory of the Empire as she was. He had been a cleric for the Galactic Senate before he had become disillusioned with their façade of democracy and wished to do all he could to help the Emperor. Simply put, Tarkin wanted Jyn to interrogate him, but befriend him, to see how much he knew and how much he was willing to divulge. He was able to sense something about this man, what it was he wasn’t quite sure, but he had a feeling that Jyn might be able to draw it out of him.

               She tended to have that effect on people.

               “So, your name is Cassian Andor?” she asks as she finally takes a seat across from him at a large table in the Imperial conference room. The large room was empty, save for the two of them, and her voice echoed across the large room as she spoke.

               “That’s right.” He dips his head forward slightly, watching her out of the corner of his eye. He seemed guarded and wary, but then again, she supposed, he had a right to be. The galaxy was rife with rumors of how _evil_ the Empire was, recounting its many atrocities while seemingly excusing all of the damages the rebels had done in the name of, well, in the name of whatever it was they said they wanted to fight for.

               “Born on Fest?” she raises her eyebrows as she tilts her head to one side, pretending to be intrigued. “Never heard of it.”

               “You wouldn’t,” he says at length, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He looks as if he’s about to say more as he adjusts himself in his seat, but apparently decides not to offer her any more information than those two words.

               “Fair enough,” she replies. Jyn had always been of the opinion that it didn’t matter what planet you were born on, so much as where you went after that. “We were told that you used to work for the Republic, and now wish to serve the Empire. Why is that?”

               “I saw firsthand how hypocritical the Republic was,” he offers as he shakes his head. “The things I’ve seen, honestly, you wouldn’t believe me.”

               “Well, I’d like to hear them,” Jyn says as she leans forward slightly. “Please, do divulge.”

               He laughs as he shakes his head, glancing to one corner of the room as if deciding where to start. “What’s your name?” he asks suddenly as he arches a quizzical brow. “I don’t believe you’ve said.”

               “My name?” she asks, a bit taken aback by the question. “I’m Jyn Erso.”

               “Jyn Erso?” He sounds awestruck, only serving to add to Jyn’s confusion. He had been leaning back in his chair before, but now he’s sitting up straight, leaning forward on the table with both hands stretched out in front of him. “Daughter of Galen Erso? _The_ Galen Erso?”

               “So, you’re a fan of my father’s work?” Jyn presses her lips together in a polite smile, but in the back of her mind something was telling her that _something_ was off. She couldn’t yet put her finger on what that was, but she had no doubt that if she was patient, she was going to find out.

               “Oh yes,” he says, his eyes wide and earnest. “Your father helped create the Death Star, the largest weapon that the galaxy has ever seen in the history of its existence, and what’s more, the time frame that he was able to construct a weapon of its size, it’s unheard of.”

               “Legendary,” Jyn agrees politely, nodding her head forward as she glances down at the datapad in front of her. “Now, if you would just tell me some more about the stories you were referring to earlier?”

               “Stories, yes,” he nods his head forward as he leans back in his chair again, as if continuing to think, before he sits up straight, again leaning forward on the table as he braces his fingers against its edge. “I’m sorry, I can’t focus now. You said you’re Jyn Erso, and I was hoping to meet Galen, and-”

               “And you’re hoping for an introduction?” Jyn asks, tilting her head to the side. From across the table, he nods his head forward, at least making some attempt to try to hide his eagerness. “My father is a very busy man,” Jyn begins, before she hesitates. “Although I do believe he would be eager to meet you, provided, that is, you can give us some information about the Republic.”

               “Anything,” Cassian says, leaning back in his chair again. “So, how long have you been working for the Empire?”

               “How long-?” Jyn repeats, before she’s suddenly insulted by the insinuation. “Will you please just answer my question?”

               “I’m sorry,” he says as he shakes his head. “I just want to make sure the information that I have will be in good hands. There are a lot of rebels that would probably want to shoot me dead on the spot if they knew that I was even talking to you-”

               “You don’t have to worry about any rebels here,” Jyn says idly, a note of boredom creeping into her tone. “More to the point, I am the daughter of Galen Erso. I don’t think there’s anyone more capable on this base.”

               “I just-” he shakes his head, as if he suddenly deciding against it. “No, nothing.”

               “What?”

               “No, it’s nothing.”

               “Tell me.”

               “No, it’s nothing, I-”

               _“Tell. Me.”_

               Her eyebrows are narrowed now, and she crosses her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair. “You think I’m not _capable_?”

               “Oh, I’m sure you’re plenty capable,” he replies immediately. “I’m just surprised that someone of your, ah, _position_ hasn’t yet been promoted.”  

               “Position?” she repeats, tilting her head to the side as if daring to say the word she was thinking.

               “Just, you’re the daughter of Galen Erso,” he says, gesturing in her general direction with one hand, and Jyn can feel her shoulders relax a bit. “You should be head of your own engineering department, or starting up your own ballistics division, not interviewing me like some kind of secretary. I’m sure this work is far beneath you.”

               “Thank you,” Jyn says, although her voice is even and cautious. “But I can assure you, I’m quite happy doing what I am.”

               “Which is what, exactly?” Cassian asks, and as Jyn narrows her eyes, he can tell immediately that he’s said the wrong thing. “No, no, not like that, I just mean that I’d love to hear about what you do in more detail, maybe over dinner, perhaps?”

               “Sure, why not?” Cassian blinked, not sure if he had actually heard her correctly, but she just smiles patiently. “Did you think I was going to say no?”

               “I considered it,” he admits, spreading his arms out by his sides, but she just shakes her head.

               “Why don’t you go back to your quarters?” Jyn asks, gesturing towards the door. “We can pick this up later, as you said, over dinner.”

               “Gladly,” Cassian says as he pushes away from the table and stands up. He does a brief bow in her direction before he heads out into the hallway, carefully letting a soft exhale blow through his lips. He had K-2SO rehearse everything with him a thousand times over before he got there, but for the life of him, he suddenly couldn’t remember what he had been coached to say. At least he had remembered to get his alibi straight, and what was better, he didn’t think that anyone suspected that he was secretly working with the Alliance. They were desperate to get any information they possibly could on Galen Erso and the monstrosity that he had created, but given his long-standing childhood friendship with Director Krennic, it seemed doubtful that he would ever defect and tell them what they needed to know in order to bring down the weapon.

               Which left only one target, his only daughter, Jyn Erso. While they didn’t know how she felt about the Empire, they were quickly running out of options, and this was a desperate effort in order to get _whatever_ information they could out of her. She was a weak point, a soft spot in Galen’s seeming impenetrable armor, and Cassian was ordered to do _whatever_ was needed in order to extract information that could be vital to the destruction of the Death Star from his daughter, and he was prepared to do anything, absolutely anything, in order to get it.

               Meanwhile, Jyn Erso sat at the table, spinning the datapad around in a slow circle with the edge of her finger. There was something about this Cassian Andor that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but he was hiding something, that much was certain. He seemed much too interested in her father, and it seemed he was prepared to do whatever he had to in order to get whatever information that he could, and it seemed he was intent on using her to do it.

               If that was the case, two could play at that game, and Jyn couldn’t honestly say she minded all that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know this seems like a bit of a part 1, but I'm considering expanding it and writing a part 2 if people really want to read it! It's been tough trying to focus today after the news of Carrie Fisher's passing, but I hope this helped cheer you up at least a little bit!!


	15. imperial entanglements: part II (Jyn x Cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Galen Erso never has an attack of conscience, & Jyn is a loyal (?) operative to the Empire. The Alliance needs information. They think Jyn is the weakpoint to get an in - and Cassian is ordered to do whatever's needed to get it.  
> Requested by: [a-non-sequitur](http://a-non-sequitur.tumblr.com/)  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor  
> Word Count: 1587

               …which is probably why, after no more than three weeks together, Cassian and Jyn spent an enormously large amount of time together, in incredibly close company. Rumors spread like wildfire across any military installation, and the Empire was no exception. For people who had little identities, Stormtroopers truly loved to gossip, and the rumor mill churned constantly with news that the daughter of Galen Erso, one of the most respected, legendary men in the Empire, was involved with a _defector_ from the Alliance. While it was all well and good that Cassian wanted to help out with their cause, he was still betraying the Alliance he swore to defend by doing so, and there could be no honor in that. Appreciation, yes, but no honor.

               Not that Jyn seemed to mind. He had only brought up her father a handful of times since they had first talked, which definitely raised her suspicions, considering how interested he had seemed in her the first time, not that there was much that she could really do about that. She knew that she should have told Governor Tarkin or Director Krennic about her suspicions, or maybe even her father himself, but the problem was that she didn’t know what to say. The Empire did not ascribe to feelings; they wanted _facts_ and the fact was that Jyn didn’t really know what unnerved her about Cassian, or maybe she did and just didn’t want to dwell on the implications of what that might mean.

               The same could be said of Cassian Andor. He was an intelligence officer for the Alliance, and yet he had done very little ground work while he was there. He hadn’t found anything related to Galen Erso or the Death Star that would be relevant to its destruction, and he was sure that General Draven was probably growing concerned with the lack of news. Still, it wasn’t like he could transport any message from an Imperial flagship, and so he had to hope that the Alliance trusted him as much as it seemed like they did. Until then, he would just play very, _very_ deep undercover and hope that someone let something slip. That _Jyn_ would let something slip.

               And in that, he was not disappointed.

               One day, Jyn showed up to their usual meeting place looking considerably more distressed than usual, her dark eyes lined with red streaks that she seemed eager to hide as she averted his gaze. Still, Cassian wasn’t about to just ignore it and pretend that everything was fine, although he could no doubt imagine that that was what Jyn was hoping he would do. “Jyn? Jyn, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

               “They’ve done it.” He was almost surprised by how quickly she seemed to volunteer the information, as if she couldn’t physically contain all the emotions she was fighting through. “They’ve finally done it. The Death Star, it’s destroyed an entire _planet_.”

               Cassian could feel his hands grow cold, and he could only hope that the planet they destroyed wasn’t where the Alliance base was centered. Then, an even worse thought, that it didn’t matter. If the Empire could wipe out one planet, it could wipe them all out, and in his head, he could only imagine the number of civilians lives that had already been lost, and how quickly that number would inflate once the Empire set its sights on more populated planets. Although, judging by Jyn’s reaction, they already had.

               “Hey, hey…” He lets his voice trail off as he wraps around her, and she presses her cheek into his shoulder. He doesn’t tell her that it would be okay, because he doesn’t know that it will be. He doesn’t tell her anything that would cause her to turn against him too. Right now, he could see a crack in her usually so-composed armor, and as much as he hated to exploit it, right now, he didn’t have a choice. He had to do what was best for the galaxy, put it ahead of his own feelings, which weren’t ones he wanted to dwell upon right now, not in the wake of what had just happened.

               “I can’t believe my father helped them create such a monstrosity.” She shakes her head as she pulls away, wiping at her hand with the back of her wrist. “I thought I knew what it could do. I thought I was _prepared_ for what it could do. But all those lives? Just gone, in an instant. All those women, all those children…” She shakes her head again as she turns back to Cassian, fire burning in her eyes. “They said it was going to be a _military_ weapon, not that they were going to turn it on a planet of innocent civilians.”

               Cassian wants to ask which planet it was, which one they had destroyed, but he can’t risk his own personal feelings getting in the way now, and so he shelves his curiosity in favor of tempered objectivity. “I’m so sorry, Jyn…”

               But that was the wrong thing to say. As soon as he said it, Jyn straightens up, quickly concealing whatever tender vulnerabilities she had displayed before. “It doesn’t matter,” she says as she shakes her head. “I just…I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving, shortly, and I don’t know when I’m going to return, or at all, so…”

               “What are you talking about?” Cassian’s voice is firm, authoritative, and Jyn answers to it immediately.

               “I can’t let them-” Jyn dips her eyes as she glances throughout the room, making sure that no one was around to hear their conversation. Still, she drops her voice lower as she takes a few steps closer to Cassian. “The weapon is near indestructible,” she continues. “But not completely. My father was always afraid that there would come a time when he would have to destroy his creation, and so he placed a flaw deep within the system, a scar so small and powerful that no one would ever be able to find it.”

               “A flaw?” This was it, this was what Cassian had been waiting for. He blinks and shakes his head like he doesn’t understand, compelling Jyn to continue.

               “The reactor system,” she whispers back excitedly. “That’s the key. It’s unstable. One blast to any part of it and it will destroy the entire station.” Her dark eyes burn into Cassian’s. “If you can blow the reactor, the module, the whole system goes down.”

               Cassian hears the words, tries to make sense of them, but for some reason, it’s just not clicking and he can’t seem to put two and two together. “Where are you going to go?” he whispers, and Jyn hesitates as she steps away from him again.

               “I have to deliver the message,” she says simply, gnawing at her lower lip before she glances back towards him, although she’s still not quite meeting his eyes. “So I guess this is goodbye.”

               “Wait,” Cassian says quickly, coming around to her other side as he takes hold of her arm. “Wait, let me come with you.”

               “You?” Jyn screws up her face as she looks him over. “You’re the one who left everything behind to join the Empire. And now you want to go back?”

               Cassian blinked. It was a trap. How could it not be? She had been suspicious of his intentions right from the beginning, and now she had constructed this story about the Death Star in order to try to get him to drop his guard and admit his standing with the Alliance. How could it be anything but? The only other option was that she trusted him with this information, and the only reason for her to do that was…

               “You want me to go with you,” Cassian whispers, almost unable to believe it. “You want me to go with you.” Jyn drops her gaze, but doesn’t deny the assertion outright.

               “I thought you might have friends,” she says at length as she looks up at him, spreading her arms at her sides. “Friends that might be able to help me. You…you’re not a killer. You’re not like the others here. My father’s prepared me a ship. He can get us to safety, but I’ve spent my whole life with the Empire. I don’t know where to go from there.”

               “I’ll help you,” Cassian says as he inclines his head forward in a steep nod. “Don’t worry, Jyn, I’ll help you.”

               “But why?” Jyn asks, as if she truly doesn’t understand. “You came here to _help_ the Empire, so why would you help me now?”

               Cassian doesn’t say anything more as he leans in suddenly, wrapping a hand behind Jyn’s neck as he pulls her closer and kisses her just a little bit more forcefully than he intended to. Even still, Jyn reacts to it immediately, and Cassian can’t help but feel his heart sink a bit. Jyn was trusting him with this, but he hadn’t been honest with her. He hadn’t told her the truth about who he was and what she was doing, and when she found out, well, would she still want to be with him, even then? Would she be able to forgiven him for it, even if it helped her do what she needed to do?

               He hoped with all his heart that she would.

               “You ready to go?” he asks as he pulls away, and Jyn doesn’t hesitate for a moment before she nods her head forward.

               “Yes, let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and you shall receive! I saw a few people wanted me to keep going, so I added just a little something to wrap it up. I'm sorry last night's posts was a bit unfocused...I was still/am still really upset over Carrie Fisher's passing and it's taken a lot out of me but I know Carrie would want me to keep pushing through, so that's what I'm going to do. Tomorrow I've promised to have a fluffy spiritassassin fic up, so if that's your thing, be sure to keep an eye out for it!! Until then, cheers!! <3


	16. height differential (Chirrut x Baze)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Exaggerated height differences!! Like, 6'+ Baze and Chirrut being like 5'5 or less (I know he's taller than that but I like to imagine lol) What do you think?  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus  
> Word Count: 773

               “How tall are you?” Chirrut asks suddenly, and Baze turns to regard his companion, quirking up an eyebrow he knew Chirrut couldn’t see.

               “Tall enough,” Baze replies evenly, a little curious as to where this sudden thought had come from but not in the mood to ask.

               “Am I as tall as others?” Chirrut continues, but Baze turns away in disinterest. “Are you? Are you taller than others, Baze?”

               “Why do you want to know?” Baze asks, and Chirrut lets his shoulders openly rise and drop with childish abandon. Baze lets out a sigh, knowing that it’s better to give in to Chirrut’s questions even while knowing that another one would soon follow it. “Yes, I am taller than others.”

               “If I climbed on your shoulders, could I see the whole market?” Chirrut asks, the question coming hot on the heels of the last one.

               “You’re blind,” Baze replies without missing a beat, but this doesn’t seem to dissuade Chirrut in the slightest.

               “Yes, but if I wasn’t, would I be able to see the whole market from your shoulders?” Chirrut asks, but Baze just grunts as he turns the question over in his mind.

               “Depends what direction you’re looking,” Baze answers after a moment, and Chirrut smiles openly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his lips pull back to reveal a happy smirk. Baze waits for the next inevitable question to come, but Chirrut seems to have gone back to studying his staff, turning it over and over again in his fingers as if he was looking for any dents or nicks in the polished wood.

               A few minutes pass, and Baze can feel the tension growing thick in his blood as he shifts restlessly, tossing his weight onto one foot as he stares down at his partner, who didn’t look affected in the slightest.

               “Well?”

               “Well, what, Baze?” Chirrut asks, looking up at him as though he hadn’t a clue what Baze was so irritated about.

               “Your questions,” Baze almost shoots back. “Why ask them? Why are you so curious about my height, anyway?”

               “I was curious,” Chirrut replies, but that answer doesn’t suit Baze very well, either. Chirrut’s mind worked in strange ways, but he knew implicitly that a thought never left Chirrut’s lips unless it was something that he was intent on acting upon.

               “Curious about what?” Baze asks, and Chirrut shifts his own position as he cranes his neck to look up and around at his companion.

               “Why do you think I asked that question?” Chirrut’s voice had changed, adopted that gentler, scholarly tone of a much wiser man, and Baze sighed as he kicked the toe of his boot into the dirt.

               “I don’t know,” he answers, but Chirrut shakes his head, as if he knows that Baze can provide a better answer.

               “Why do you think I asked that question?” he repeats, his voice still gentle, encouraging Baze to take all the time that he needed to think.

               Baze considers this for a few moments, but he was plagued by a ridiculous thought that he just couldn’t shake. Still, the first answer that came to his mind might prove to be correct one, and so he just decided to voice it regardless. “Would you like me to carry you around the market on my shoulders?”

               Chirrut smiles as he gets to his feet, looking as happy and innocent as a young child. “If you’re offering…” He lets his voice trail off, and Baze rolls his eyes as he kneels into the dirt. Chirrut takes a step forward and puts a hand on Baze’s shoulder, letting it guide him around to his back as he waits for Baze to hoist him up. He does so, and Chirrut can almost _feel_ the difference in height, could feel the harsh, bitter winds of the Jedha moon blowing against his face as he tried to mentally picture just how far up he was from the ground.

               Baze shifts him on his shoulders as he starts to walk, and Chirrut can feel himself grinning like a child. He couldn’t physically see anyone beneath him, no, but he could feel the shoulders of people brushing against his legs, and he could only imagine how tall Baze must be, how powerful he must seem to others when Chirrut knew how gentle he can be.

               Still, Baze doesn’t sound that gentle when he lets out a grunt, making sure to conceal the affection in his words for the benefit of those around him. “Are you happy now, Chirrut?”

               Chirrut smiles as he holds onto Baze, just a little bit tighter than before. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've gotten a bunch of requests for short, sweet, happy, fluffy spiritassassin ficlets lately and this seemed like a fun one to do!! I hope you enjoyed it!! ^_^


	17. cassian/han friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cassian Andor and Han Solo are not friends... but maybe they can put aside their differences long enough to trade advice about how to handle a rebellion princess and a rogue spirit.  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Word Count: 512

“You two seem to be getting along,” Han noted as he watched Jyn’s retreating form through the hangar. Cassian let out a small grunt of agreement, though his eyes were shining with amusement.

“Did I tell you she took off to the Outer Rim to help with an extraction just last week?” he asks. Han looks reflective, but eventually shakes his head to indicate that he hadn’t. “I didn’t find out about it until she was halfway there. No one asked her to go. She just hopped on a ship and headed off.” 

Han lets out an appreciative laugh as he shakes his head. “Yeah, I know how that is.” Cassian gets the feeling his friend wants to say more, but holds back.

“How is this Princess?” he asks, but Han just shrugs as if that’s a question he doesn’t know how to answer.

“You know how she can be,” Han eventually replies. “She’s a rebellious spirit. She-” He suddenly pauses as he wipes his temple with the palm of his hand. “Oh no.”

“Wha-?” Cassian doesn’t even have time to turn around as the short figure strides up beside him.

“Han, there you are. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” Princess Leia stood with her hands on both hips, drawing herself up to her full height. 

“And you didn’t think to check the hangar first?” Han asks with a light chuckle. Cassian smiles appreciatively, but Leia’s scowl only deepens. 

“Is this where you’ve been hiding?” she demands. “You promised to help Kes Dameron-”

“Today?” Han asks, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “I thought that was tomorrow.” Leia says nothing as he stares him down, perhaps willing herself to see through the lie or forgive him for it. “Okay, I’m going, I’m going.” He tilts his head to the side as he shoots Cassian a look.

Cassian sends him off with a brief chuckle in return. 

“Andor,” Leia says lightly with a quick bow of her head. 

“Princess,” Cassian replies, before he turns to see a tall, dark Imperial droid heading straight for him. “What are you doing here, K? I thought you were fixing up the ship.” 

“Well I was,” K replies. “But your wife seems to have taken it. She says she promises to return it before the end of the day, but we’ve all heard that one before, haven’t we?” 

Cassian doesn’t even try to conceal his grunt of frustration as he wipes his face with one large hand. “Do you know where she went?”

“As long as she doesn’t disable the tracker she doesn’t know I installed on the ship, then yes, we should.”

“Good,” Cassian says as he takes a step forward. Suddenly he stops, seemingly changing his mind, as he turns back to K. “Quick, we’re leaving in ten. Ask if there’s anyone else who wants to come.” 

In the distance, he could hear the slap of a wooden staff echoing against the walls of the hangar. He laughed and shook his head as he turned and headed towards the nearest ship.


	18. he likes you (bodhi rook x reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You said we could request you here do you have a particular prompt list or it can be anything? Either way how about Bodhi and Reader in which Bodhi has a crush on them but thinks they are too intimidating to approach  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, K-2SO, Bodhi Rook, Reader  
> Word Count: 790

            “Thanks for your help,” Cassian says as he jerks his thumb back towards the ship behind him. “I’ve been meaning to replace the central thrusters in the sublight drives for a while now. I kept asking Kay to do it but-”

            “But stars will live and die before he’ll actually do anything you ask the first time,” you agree, and Cassian chuckles in response.

            “You know I can hear you,” K-2SO says dryly from somewhere behind Cassian. “I’m standing right here.”

            “Oh, I know,” you reply evenly. “That’s why I said it.”

            K-2SO seems about to argue before Cassian comes to his defense. “All right, he’s not _that_ bad.”

            “Yes, he is.” A familiar voice floats through the air as Jyn walks past, carrying an armful of equipment. She leans over to give Cassian a quick peck on the cheek and flashes a smile in your direction before she heads off through the mass array of ships that surrounded you.

            “So I’ve been meaning to ask-” You pause for a moment, your train of thought completely interrupted as you saw Bodhi Rook enter the hangar. He was dressed in his new Alliance uniform which, in your opinion, suited him much better than the Imperial pilot uniform that he had previously been wearing. True, you had only managed to catch a glimpse of it when they had returned from their successful mission to capture the Death Star plans from Scarif, but it was a shame to see one of the bravest heroes that the Rebellion would ever have wearing the garb of the enemy.

            Not that you ever would have a chance to tell him as much yourself. He was shy, keeping mostly to himself. He was close to Chirrut and Baze, would have meals with Cassian and Jyn, and even would chat with K-2SO on occasion, but he seemed reserved and quiet around everyone else.

            Or maybe just you.

            He catches your gaze, and you offer up a friendly wave before Bodhi turns on his heels and leaves the hangar, his legs stiff as his feet carry him away as fast as they’re able. Cassian turns his head to catch the interaction, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lip when he turns back to you.

            “Is it something I said?” you ask Cassian, which only earns another chuckle from him as you glance down at your fuel-stained uniform. “I mean, I know I’m covered with grit but-”

            “He likes you.”

            _“K!”_

            Cassian spins around, obviously frustrated that his droid had let one of Bodhi’s secrets slip so intentionally.

            “What?” Kay-To asks, rolling his mechanical eyes to the side. “I’m sure she already knew.”

            Cassian turns to you, his jaw working, but can’t seem to find the right words to ask.

            “Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain?” you ask quickly, and Cassian nods gratefully as he signals towards the entrance of the hangar. Without another look back, you quickly head down the narrow hallway, where you find Bodhi walking slowly towards the mess hall.

            “Hi there,” you say brightly as you pop up alongside him, and Bodhi looks ready to pop out of his own skin.

            “Hi,” he stammers back, managing a smile that could only be described as endearing.

            “I saw you in the hangar,” you say, overlooking his awkwardness. “I tried to say hello, but I don’t think you saw me.”

            It was a lie, a bad one, but fortunately Bodhi recognizes what you’re trying to do. “Oh no,” Bodhi says quickly. “I was going to, um, working on my ship, but I uh, I realized that I should probably, uh, you know, eat something first. For energy and…” He lets his voice trail off, and you don’t press him.

            “I’ve been working on Cassian’s ship all day,” you tell him. “He was going to grab a bite with me, but something came up. Do you mind if I steal your company instead?”

            “Yes,” Bodhi says quickly before he shakes his head just as quickly. “I mean, no, I mean, yes, you should, it would be great if you could join me, yes.”

            “Fantastic,” you reply as you flash him a comforting smile, and it’s one that Bodhi quickly returns.

            That was the first time that you had dinner with Bodhi Rook. After coaxing him out of his shell with conversations of ships and shuttles and cargo freighters, you were pleased to say that it was the first of many more to come.


	19. bruises (jyn x cassian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jyn is attacked/assaulted and Cassian notices the bruises/marks, she startles easily when he walks by, etc. Preferably during a time where they are still getting to know each other.  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, other characters mentioned  
> Word Count: 796

“What’s that?”

Jyn turns her face away to hide the fresh shiner on her left cheek, but Cassian grabs her arm and spins her around to face him. Mentally, Jyn tried to crawl back inside the cave in her mind but found no solace in it.

“Nothing,” she replies quickly as she averts her gaze. She knows the look that he was giving her right now, but she couldn’t bring herself to face it. As far as she could tell, Cassian never asked for the truth, he demanded it, and he wasn’t going to let her go without answers.

“ _Jyn_.” She can hear the pain in his voice as he says her name, and she slowly brings her eyes up to meet his. The look on her face is worse than she had expected. She had expected to see concern, yes, but not the care or compassion reflected in his dark stare.

“Who did this to you?” The question is harsh, angry, but she knows that it’s not directed at her.

“No one,” she replies lamely, deciding it was better to avert her gaze after all. She yanks her arm out of his grasp but makes no move to turn away. She wasn’t going to run away from him. He would only chase her, or worse, ask someone else what had happened. He would probably ask Draven, or Mon Mothma, and the last thing she needed was for one of them to think that she went around their base picking fights, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Okay, look.” She digs the toe of her boot into the dust like an errant child expecting a reprimand. “I was sparring with Chirrut.” Cassian’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t give him time to speak. “Baze warned me not to but I wanted to see if he was really as good as he seemed back on Jedha.”

Cassian is silent for a long while, looking her over. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking, doesn’t pretend to try. Finally, he just lets out a sigh as he crosses his arms over his chest and then uncrosses them again as he lets them drop to his sides.

“Was he?”

His question is met with a blank stare. “What?”

“Was he?” Cassian repeats. “As good a fighter as he was on Jedha?”

“Oh.” Jyn pauses for a moment, trying to get her thoughts in order. Apparently she wasn’t in trouble for sparring with Chirrut. If anything, it seemed that Cassian was trying to smooth over this tense moment between them. She couldn’t bring herself to guess at his motives, but she was grateful for it all the same. “Yeah, he was. I tried to duck one side of his staff. Forgot it had two ends.” She pauses for a moment. “I don’t think he meant to hit me that hard. Apparently I just have a soft face.”

It sounds stupid to her ears once Jyn says it aloud, but Cassian chuckles regardless. “I know you can take care of yourself-”

“I can take care of myself.” The reply is immediate, firm and defensive. Cassian’s shoulders shrug uncomfortably, and Jyn immediately regrets having said anything at all.

“I know you can.” His voice is softer this time, gentle. “I know you can, but I just wanted to say that if anything happened, if anyone tried to hurt you…” His voice trails off as he glances away. “You would let me know, okay?”

“Of course.” Her voice is small, quiet. She looked at him almost stunned, trying to read the implication in his words. Cassian seemed protective of her, but why? He had seen her fight, he had no need to be…unless…

Cassian forced the corners of his lips up into a tight smile as he clasped her on the shoulder and passed her, heading down the hall. Jyn spins around to face him, her voice rising in her chest but catching in her throat as she swallows his name.

The cave in her mind demanded solitude, isolation. If you got close to people, if you let them in, they could hurt you. Betray you. Stab you in the back. She had learned that lesson more times than she could count. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a different sort of emotion rise up in her chest as she watched him go. The cautious wariness was still there, but underneath it was something else, something she wasn’t sure she had ever really felt before.

Maybe it was time to close the hatch and shut out the cave in her mind for good.


	20. new friends (Chirrut x Baze & Deaf!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hello there ! ^.^ I wanted to know if you could write a Chirrut/Reader where the reader is deaf or mute ? Or maybe she/he can have another handicap ? I know it’s something that really matter to you, and I truly think that there should be more writings about all sorts of disability. And since Chirrut is blind, I think it’s a good challenge for you to write how can the reader and him can possibly communicate with each other. Anyway, please don't mind my english, it's not my native language ! ^^'  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Baze Malbus, Chirrut Imwe, Reader (Deaf, uses sign language, and anosmic)   
> Word Count: 1347

            “May the Force of others be with you.”

            Chirrut said it over and over again, although no one was really listening. His voice mixed into the crowded stream of voices and sounds all around him, from the brush of long robes being dragged along the pavement to the sound of hurried footsteps as people made their way from one side of NiJedha to the next, probably heading away from their Imperial invaders as swiftly as their feet could carry them.

            You didn’t hear him. You didn’t hear any of the sounds that surrounded you. While the Force had decided to deny Chirrut his sight, it had decided to deny you sound.

            It also chose to deny you the gift of smell, but that you had been born with. While a hindrance, it didn’t manage to impact communication the same way losing your hearing had. You knew _sound_ ; knew the shape and the form of it in your head. You had been able to hear when you were a child, but had steadily lost your hearing until the only thing that pulsed in your eardrums was the steady beat of silence, occasionally interrupted by the loud burst of static that accompanied a shell exploding nearby.

            Imperial weapons were _loud._ You felt the tremor in the ground, and, occasionally, felt the spray of hot sand scatter against your face. The reactions of other people, the direction they ran in, often gave you a good indication as to which way to head in order to escape danger, but you could not hear their shouts.

            You probably had a voice that you could still use, but as you could not hear it, your voice had fallen into disuse. Instead, you had decided to speak with your hands, what little you did speak. There were over nine thousand forms of sign language in the galaxy during the 19th Imperial Year, the time of the Galactic Civil War, but you only knew one. While the Kallidahin and the Twi’leks were the most common users of sign language in the galaxy, none of them lived on NiJedha in order to teach you their language.

            No, the only sign language you had managed to learn was a rudimentary form of Galactic Sign Language, or GSL, that you had managed to pick up from a Wookiee who was stranded on NiJedha for a few weeks after his ship had crashed there.

            You wondered what the growl of a Wookiee sounded like. It was infamous, according to some, although its iconic roar never reached your ears.

            While most didn’t have the time to spare struggling to communicate with you, Chirrut Imwe was the exception to the rule. You had been sitting alone at the base of a large abandoned structure when he had approached you, his staff dragging through the dirt until it tapped against the edge of the large stone ledge. He had held out his hand and guided himself into a seating position while you curiously watched on.

            His lips moved. In the back of your mind, you thought that you could almost hear something, a steady hum that separated sound from useless noise, but even if you could hear that he was talking, your ears wouldn’t give you his words.

            You started to lift your hands to reply to him before you realized it would be a useless attempt.

            You could not hear his words.

            He could not see yours.

            Chirrut’s forehead puckers as you take your hand in his, spelling out letters into his palm.

_D-E-A-F._

            Chirrut’s puzzled expression remains and you drop his hand back into his lap. It was worth a try but so very few people knew even basic fingerspelling. Not that you really blamed them, though. After all, most people were able to afford basic cybernetic enhancements to bypass such physical hindrances. Sign language had prevailed in the galaxy because it was as much a cultural value as it was a physical one, but that didn’t help you now.

            And it certainly wouldn’t help you on NiJedha.

            Something seems to click as Chirrut lifts a hand into the hair. He reaches out slowly, hesitantly, before he puts his palm flat against your ear as he shakes your head. You grab his other hand excitedly as you hold it against your face as well so that he can understand that you’re eagerly nodding your head up and down.

            The corners of his lips pull up into a smile.

            For the rest of that day, you communicate in this rudimentary way, using whatever sort of pantomime and physical body expressions you could in order to communicate. Chirrut, it seemed, was able to understand at least some basic sign language; what he did not, you carved slow, Aurebesh letters into his open palm. It may have been a slow way of communicating, but it _was_ communicating, and you were grateful for it.

            At least until Chirrut got up and started to walk away. He made some gesture with his hand that you didn’t understand; you weren’t quite sure if he understood it either. He gestured _out, away_ before looking back towards you again, but you weren’t quite sure what he meant. Before you had time to ask, he had turned his back and walked away.

            You thought about calling out to him with your voice, but it was still tender from disuse and you didn’t want to disappoint yourself by making an abomination of a sound, and so you kept silent, figuring that that was the last time you had seen your new friend.

            Until he returned later that night with a much larger man in tow. At first you were frightened; it would be quite easy for him to take advantage of your situation, considering you could not call for help. Not that anyone would come to your aid, but you were easy prey, and falling victim to someone with nefarious intentions was always on the forefront of your thoughts.

            But Chirrut was smiling, and you forced yourself to return it.

            As the man approaches, he stops in front of you. He was tall, very tall, with unkempt black hair that was swept behind him by NiJedha’s coarse breeze. He thumps his chest once, and his large, awkward fingers spell out a name.

            _B-A-Z-E._

He points to the man beside him. _C-H-I-R-R-U-T._

You knew that much. Chirrut had carved his name into the sand with his staff earlier that day, but you couldn’t help but marvel at his friend. He wasn’t used to signing, you could tell by the awkward way he held his hands, but it was something.

            Baze points to himself, then to you. Then to Chirrut. He points his mouth and opens and closes his jaw a few times. You understand as you nod your head.

            And that was how you told Baze and Chirrut your story. That was how they, the Guardians of the Whills, told you theirs. And at the end of the day, Baze turned and gestured between the three of you as he allowed he held out both index fingers in front of him in a hooked C-shape. With one palm facing up, he hooked the second _C_ into the first before reversing the position of his hands and doing it again so his bent index fingers lazily slid over one another.

            _Friend._

You smile as you hold up your hand, palm towards you, intertwining your index and middle fingers as if you were swearing a promise.

            _Best friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Not being able to smell is a thing, it's called anosmia, and if you're born with it, it's called congenital anosmia and doctors don't know what causes it but I have had zero sense of smell since I was a baby, although I join the ranks of Bill Pullman and Ben of Ben and Jerry's (you ever wonder why Ben likes so many chunks/textures in his ice cream? Now you know!) I'm also culturally Deaf, though medically more on the scales of hard of hearing since I didn't lose my hearing until later and still have some concept of sound. I can still use my voice but I prefer to use ASL to communicate. Any questions, let me know! Cheers!!


	21. will you be my valentine? (Cassian x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hi can I request Cassian/Reader, um perhaps where reader has had a crush on her idol Cassian for the longest time and reader is probably just like a technician or something she doesnt see enough to impress him  
> Requested by: Anon  
> Characters: Reader, Cassian Andor, K-2SO  
> Word Count: 949

Working for the Alliance had always been your dream job.

Well, scratch that.

You had always wanted to be a technician, and once you found an in with the Alliance, you felt as though you had finally found a purpose in life, what you were born to do, helping to bring down a fascist regime with just your humble little skill set.

But time had a way of making you take things for granted, as time so often did, and it wasn’t long before you set your sights on something else.

Or rather, someone else.

Cassian Andor was one of the chief intelligence officers for the Alliance. You didn’t know what he did exactly, but considering how much time he spent with General Draven and Mon Mothma, you knew that he was someone of note. This was actually pretty convenient for you. You wished that he was just another cargo pilot, another technician, someone equal to your lowly status. It might have made approaching him a bit easier.

Instead, you contented yourself to watch him from afar.

At least, until Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t really that different from any other day, except there were less people working than usual. That really didn’t bother you any, considering you spent most of your company around droids. They didn’t seem to get the point of this “holiday” any more than you did.

That was probably why you felt a little safer venturing over to Cassian’s U-Wing. He and K-2SO had been grounded on base for the last few days, and the shuttle looked to be in pretty bad shape. You stood there for a few moments, surveying the damage, before a mechanical voice spoke up from behind you.

“And what are you looking at?”

The voice was both indifferent and accusing at the same time. You spun around to find yourself dwarfed in K-2SO’s mighty shadow, and you quickly forced a smile to your lips as you looked up at him.

“Sorry, I was just looking at the damage. It’s in pretty bad shape. What happened to it?”

“That’s classified.” The accusing tone was dropped in favor of total ambivalence.

“Oh.” He seems to be waiting for you to leave, and you avert your gaze before you gesture back to the ship you had been working on.

“I see. I’ll just, uh, I’ll just leave you to it, then. Just let me know if you need any help.”

He doesn’t reply as you slink back to your own ship and start working at double the pace, just in case he happened to be watching you. That droid seemed suspicious of anything and anyone, although you didn’t know how much of that was simply a byproduct of his reconditioning.

In fact, you’re working so diligently that you don’t notice that Cassian himself had stepped out onto the landing strip. You don’t notice him talking to K-2SO. You don’t notice K-2SO pointing in your direction, and you don’t notice Cassian Andor heading straight for you until you almost slip off the ladder you were on as you jump down from the cockpit.

“Hi there.” Your voice sounds too high pitched, even for your own ears, and you quickly swallow the lump in your throat as you face him directly, trying to remain as cool as possible. “Anything I can, erm, anything I can help you with?”

“Kay says you were inquiring about our ship?” He arches an eyebrow, but he doesn’t seem mad. Just curious.

“Just checking her out.” Your hand flutters in the air in a desperate attempt to seem nonchalant. “Seemed in pretty bad shape. I didn’t know if you needed any help.”

“I think we’re fine, thanks.” He seems ready to start walking away as he lingers for a moment, surveying the droids that were working on the rest of the ships parked nearby. “Thank you, by the way.”

You blink at him stupidly. “Thanks?”

Cassian lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “Well you spend so much time here working on these ships, making sure they’re in top condition. I don’t know when the last time the Alliance has properly thanked you for your work, but we appreciate it. The pilots appreciate it. I appreciate it.”

You can feel heat rising to your cheeks. You hadn’t expected Cassian, of all people, to notice how much work you put into your ships, but evidently, he had. Then again, he was a spy. It was his job to notice everything around him. And that, it seemed, included you.

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Maybe you were a droid, because it seemed, at least in that moment, that your circuits malfunctioned and something that you never imagined yourself ever saying comes out of your mouth instead.

“If you really want to thank me, you can come with me to dinner tonight.”

You had no idea what had gotten into you, but Cassian just chuckles in response. He casts a long lingering look in your direction before he finally dips his head forward in a nod. “All right, it’s a date.”

Fortunately, he turns to head back to his ship, sparing you the trouble of having to put together a coherent response. You would have to converse with him later, of course, but future problems were future problems.

Right now, you needed a shower. There was no way you were going to go to dinner with Cassian Andor reeking of fuel oil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone has a fantastic Valentine's Day!! Cheers!!


End file.
